Finding Home
by Marie Chambers
Summary: The timelines are breaking down. Two universes are on the brink of being destroyed and all the while, a dangerous trip to Trenzalore, a broken fob watch, and a would-be-king, all conspire to keep John from ever returning home again. (sequel to Alternate Meetings).
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello everyone! First of all sorry I just want to say sorry it's taken me so long to get this story out! I'm almost completely done with it however so updates should be rather frequent, I hope. It's a sequel to my story Alternate Meetings and will probably be really confusing if you haven't read that. But if your going to try anyway, what you need to know is that the Doctor and Rose met alternate versions of themselves that were role-reversed, and eventually in a Doomsday-esque style, John fell and is now trapped with Rose and the Doctor in their world. Okay, last note, this story is rated T, but their will be light M moments in the future that I will be sure to give an advance warning for so please keep a lookout for that if you're looking to avoid such a thing. Thank you!**

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**Chapter 1: Indebted**

"Fuck," John hissed to himself, as he dropped to his knees by the unconscious girl. There was blood, so much blood, and he felt his heart racing double time (as if he had two, a small voice whispered), as he covered the gushing wound with his hands. They came back coated in the red, sticky substance and his mind stumbled over itself, searching for an idea, a plan, anything that could help.

"C'mon Rose," he whispered. Unsurprisingly, she didn't respond. He took off the oxford he was wearing and bunched it up to press against the wound. His voice was scratchy and hoarse as he called out for help.

John had been traveling with the Doctor and Rose for nearly a year now. It was still hard being separated from his home, from his Doctor, but he'd long since learned to at least keep himself busy enough in their adventures to not allow the crushing grief of their unwelcome separation to drag him down into that dark place again. The goodbye, the last time he had ever seen her, while painful, gave him a small thread of hope, a reason to keep going. She was going to say it. He had to believe she was going to say it. He also had to believe that she hasn't given up on him yet, in the way he hasn't given up on her.

He proved himself useful enough to Rose and the Doctor, he thinks, in their various adventures...if a bit reckless at times. This time, however, he had been too slow. The gun had shot off before he could stop it, and the coward who had shot her had fled before John could do anything about it.

When they had landed here just a few short hours ago, they had been thrown straight into a civil war. The place where he and Rose had found themselves in was in no small way a wasteland. The stench of death hung heavily in the air, and bodies bloodied and decaying, littered the ground. It was obvious that the rebels were losing and becoming more desperate by the minute. The man who had shot her, one of the few surviving rebels judging by his ragged clothes, had took their only slightly more posh appearance to mean they were the enemy. In a half-mad, frantic move, the man had quickly, shakily picked up one of the guns scattered across the ground and had fired it before John had even registered what was happening. She had screamed as the bullet pierced her delicate skin, tearing ruthlessly past flesh and muscle, and John thought that sound might be etched permanently on his eardrums. The man had then dropped the gun and stumbled backwards like he couldn't quite believe what he had just done. Then he fled.

John's voice was hoarse from yelling and he knew that if he didn't get her wounds attended to soon that things would start getting very serious, very fast. Her heartbeat was already so weak and she still wouldn't wake up. There was so much blood...

He took off his other shirt and the belt he was wearing, and was able to create a make-shift wrap around the wound. It wouldn't last long as his oxford was almost entirely soaked through, but it was better than nothing. He would need to hurry if he hoped for her to make it. He hoisted her in his arms best he could, running on pure adrenaline alone as he tried to remember where the Tardis was parked. It was so hot, and he hadn't drank in so long. His head was pounding and his vision was shaky at best. He grunted under the weight of the unconscious girl in his arms.

"Stay with me Rose," he gritted out. She didn't answer and he pushed his aching legs harder in what he hoped to be the right direction.

The familiar blue box mercifully came into focus and he pushed himself a little harder, tightening his arms around her body to avoid dropping her. John's vision was beginning to blacken around the edges and he wasn't sure how much longer his legs could could support his and her weight, but still he ran. Just a little bit further, a little bit longer, he told himself. It was quite possible the Doctor was still confronting the corrupt dictator on this planet and so it would be up to him to treat her wounds. She was counting on him.

The door opened automatically to him and the console room felt blessedly cool on his sweat soaked skin. The med bay was close and he thanked the Tardis as he sat Rose down on the metal table that occupied the room. He knew how some of the equipment worked as well as a bit of basic first aid, but not nearly enough, he feared, to treat a wound of this caliber. The Tardis already had set out the supplies he would need, but he knew he wasn't qualified to treat her, especially in his wobbly state. Panic flooded him as he looked at his blood stained hands and the blood-covered shirts that were hastily wrapped around her body. "Oh god," he whimpered.

The Tardis suddenly, forcefully swamped his mind, keeping his panic at bay and filling his mind instead with instructions. Medical knowledge. If the situation wasn't so dire, he might have had more time to be shocked. As it was he simply did not question it and got to work.

Rose had been his one saving grace since he had been trapped in this universe and he would be damned if he let her die. The Tardis helped to steady his mind and showed him what he needed to do, fighting off his fatigue and worry, so that he could focus on the task at hand. It was the most interaction the Tardis had ever had with him, barring that time so long ago when he had ripped open the heart of the Tardis in his old universe to save his Doctor.

When he had the bullet out and the wound cleaned and bandaged, he set her up on some IV's and connected her to a heart monitor. Her heartbeat was still sluggish, but it was steady. He sighed in relief, his hand dragging across his face to wipe away the beads of sweat that had gathered there. The Tardis assured him she would be okay and John slumped over exhausted...

Then, promptly collapsed to the hard, cold linoleum floor.

He awoke, groggily, to the sound of quiet murmuring. His head ached and his muscles felt sore, deep to the bone. It was hard to get his eyes to cooperate and open against the harsh light and he fought to get his dry mouth working to ask what was going on to the mysterious voice. "Doctor?" he asked blearily. "Doctor?" Was she okay, he wondered? He remembered there was blood, so much blood. Her blood or his?

His own face swam in his vision when he got his eyes fully working and he flinched back in shock. "Shhh. Hey, just me. Don't strain yourself."

John took in deep gulps of air and looked up at the man with his face. "Where's the Doctor? Who are you? Why do you look like me? Where am I?" John's eyes danced frantically around the unfamiliar room. The man in front of him looked suddenly pained.

"It's hard to explain. Just give it a moment, you're memories will start coming back. And here take this. It'll help with the headache." John hesitantly took the white pill from...himself. The man in front of him next proffered a glass of water and John was unable to resist the allure of it and he greedily drank it down.

The water helped him clear his mind and slowly his memories caught up with him and everything fell back into place. It was crushing, coming back down. For that instant he had believed he was with his Doctor again and it had, while not ideal, been wonderful. He quickly buried the hurt, like he had long since learned how to do.

The Doctor's eyes were sad as he watched John's expression. "Sorry," he said. His lips curled up in a grimace, but John merely waved his sympathy off.

"How's Rose," he asked, his voice still scratchy and gruff. He turned his head to see her lying on one of the hospital beds, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

"She's stable," the Doctor said shakily, following his gaze. "She's lost a lot of blood, but she's okay. Y-you...John..." The Doctor couldn't finish the sentence, his face crumpled and tears filled his eyes. John understood, even if he was slightly startled by the tears. He was so used to the control and the tampered down emotions of the Doctor (either of them) and to see his emotions cracking like this was terribly shocking. He tried to give the other man a comforting smile.

"I'm just glad she's okay."

Silence filled the gap between their conversation before finally, haltingly the Docto began speaking again.

"When I got back, the Tardis...the old girl was frantic when I first entered her, and I ran here immediately. Both of you were covered in blood and unconscious. You were passed out on the floor." John swallowed. Over the course of his time traveling with them, things had been...not tense, but certainly uncomfortable between him and the brown-haired man. The Doctor seemed to be almost wary of him, for some reason. Not that they were ice cold to one another, but John wouldn't describe them as particularly close. However, the concern radiating in the other man's eyes now was unmistakable. As was the utterly sincere relief and gratitude pouring off of him.

"Someone shot her," John said, eyes far off as the memories slowly began to form in his head. "No one was around. Everyone dead. Whoever had done it, he fled and I...there was nothing...I carried her back fast as I could. There was so much blood, I tried to stop it, but...the Tardis did most of the work in the end. Stopped me from falling apart when I finally got her here. Helped me to know what to do. Afterwards, I guess I just...collapsed."

"Exhaustion," the Doctor said. "Dehydration, shock, panic. I have you on fluids and nutrients, you should be feeling better soon."

"And Rose?"

The Doctor closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "John," he said, his tone so, so distraught. "You saved her life. Oh god, you saved her. She would have _died_."

The Doctor could barely keep himself together anymore and his body shook uncontrollably as he tried to suppress his emotions. "Thank y-you," he gasped out passed his sudden tears. John felt his heart clench in sympathy for the man, any lingering awkwardness or tension between the two of them fading to the background at this shared moment.

"She's okay now," John whispered as he tried to suppress his own tears. "C'mon, pull it together. We don't want her to wake up and see us blubbering on like babies, do we?" The Time Lord let out a choked laugh.

When the Doctor had composed himself again, dashing the tears that hand managed to slip by from his cheeks, they sat in silence, listening to the soft breathing of the sleeping woman.

"I owe you." This sudden declaration rang out into the room as a promise, but already John was shaking his head.

"More like I owed her," he countered. "Those first few months...she kept me from going insane. She saved me, really. At the time I didn't want...I was just so lost. She took care of me. I owed her."

"Rose does that," the Doctor said quietly. "Saves people." He said no more and John didn't press it. He could only hope that this latest brush with death would finally open the Doctor's eyes and give him the push he needed towards Rose.

There was a quiet moan and the Doctor shot out of his chair and towards her side as if by a magnetic pull. He took one her hands in his and then soothed back her hair with his free hand. "Doc-Doctor?" she said groggily.

"Hello." John heard the other man whisper tenderly. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore."

The Doctor immediately pulled a syringe out from a cabinet. He took her arm in his hand and gently brushed over a spot with his thumb in a feather light touch before efficiently inserting the needle into her arm. "Here," he said, "this should help with the pain."

"W-where's John? S'he okay?"

"Right here," the man in question spoke up and Rose turned slowly to smile at him, although it came out as more of a grimace as her side was pulled tenderly against the bandage.

"Seems we're in the same boat," she attempted humorously.

John tutted. "I think you're a little worse off than I am, thanks. D'you remember what happened?"

The Doctor cut in. "There will be time for that later. You should rest, Rose."

Rose suddenly looked up concernedly to her Doctor. She reached out her hand, wincing a little at the movement. The Doctor leaned down a little so she could reach him. She traced under his eyes, down his cheeks, frowning, "You've been crying," she said, taken aback. The Doctor pulled away a little, looking slightly embarrassed.

"It's all right. I'm all right. _Everyone_ is all right," he insisted firmly. Rose nodded, sensing his need to change subjects, but she couldn't totally erase the worry from her eyes.

"Tell me what happened?" she asked. "Please."

"I will, after you've rested. Both of you." His voice brooked no arguments. John rolled his eyes, but consented. He was rather exhausted. Rose put up a little more of a fight, stubborn woman that she was, but eventually gave in as well and laid back on the bed with an exaggerated sigh that half way through turned into a loud yawn.

"We'll talk soon," the Doctor promised her. She smiled tiredly at him.

"Stay with me?"

The Time Lord hummed contently in answer and took up vigilance by her bedside, incasing her hand in his once more. Her eyes slowly fluttered shut.

John had to physically turn away, feeling slightly ill. Those small, tender moments between them always reminded him so acutely of how much he had lost. Once upon a time, he had been apart of something special like that. It was hard not to feel the pang of his loss when he saw them interacting together. Hard not to feel a little out of place, intruding in some ways. Sometimes it even became so much, that he had to bail out on some adventures just to get some breathing room from them. He was sure they appreciated the alone time as well, even though Rose still insisted that it wasn't like that between them. John assured her it was only a matter of time. It was challenging, though, watching them be so blatantly in love with one another. And even more challenging watching them continue to balance on the precipice between being friends and lovers, when John knew, knew what it was like to lose that chance forever. So much time wasted on dancing around one another. And, oh if he could do it again... But now he was forced to watch them make the same mistakes he and his own Doctor had made. Wasting so much time.

Rose's breathing evened out and John feigned sleep best he could as thoughts he had been forcefully pushing away for months now swirled familiarly around in his head; thoughts of his Doctor and all the what if's and forevers that could have been but never would be. His exhausted mind simply refused to settle down.

"Can't sleep," the Doctor asked abruptly, startling him. He flinched and turned to face the concerned man, trying to erase the expression of melancholy and heartbreak he knew resided there.

"Can't shut my mind off. Long day."

"I can give you something to help you sleep?" he offered, shrugging a shoulder. John found himself nodding, surprised and grateful at the gesture.

The cool liquid hit his veins and he blessedly went off into a dreamless sleep. It was the first night since he had come to this universe that he didn't have any nightmares of falling.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Time to check back in with John's Doctor...**

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**Chapter 2: Starting Over**

It was never easy starting over, despite the countless times she had done it by now. The image of his tear-stained face and his hair whipping wildly in the wind on that damned beach simply refused to leave her alone, making it all the more difficult for her to move on. Her mind replayed his words like a broken record, that simple sentence piercing her with insurmountable guilt. I love you I love you I love you...

She hadn't said it back.

Her last ounce of hope had finally run out the second he had faded away. There was no way to get him back, no way to bring him home, and she hadn't even been able to finish that damn sentence. A heavy weight had settled in her stomach that day. One that she had a feeling she just might carry with her through the rest of her lives.

Why couldn't she just move on like she always had before?

True to her word she didn't travel with anyone else. She swept in and out of deadly situations like a ghost, staying for long enough to save the day, but no longer allowing herself the time to get too involved. Not again. She had certainly learned her lesson.

She didn't necessarily go looking for trouble, but still she found it anyway and the distractions were welcome. The adrenaline and blood pumping in her veins were the only antidotes, brief they may be, to her pain. Those glorious few minutes during that rush soothed her soul and freed her of both her guilt and grief, if only for a moment. It was a euphoric feeling that never lasted nearly long enough.

Nightmares plagued her more forcefully than they had before. Now interspersed with the images of the fall of Arcadia and the bloodbath that was the Time War, were images of John falling inescapably into hell or the image of him on that beach, telling her he loved her and then disappearing before her eyes. They were gut-wrenching dreams, and she always awoke gasping for breath and shaking violently. She didn't sleep much if she could help it.

The Tardis had a much stronger presence in her mind as of late as well, bathing her mind with comfort and love. The Doctor began to crave the contact, allowing her mind to rest peacefully in the colors and sounds that the Tardis used to communicate with her. It was blissful being washed in emotions other than her own tumultuous ones. She knew the Tardis was worried about her, about how reckless she was being and how lonely she was, but there was nothing for it. She wouldn't allow herself to get close to anyone again. She had ruined John's life after all, uprooted him from everything he had ever known and she simply would not put anyone else at risk like that again. She was dangerous and _this_, living out the rest of her lives lonely and isolated, this was her penance to him.

She kept moving, as she always had, despite the emptiness in her chest. She ordered the Tardis to move John's room to storage, unable to bear the sight of it in the corridor any longer. She followed all the other basic procedures she did when a companion left, making sure every evidence of his presence was neatly tucked away. The library books he had been reading were re-shelved, his shampoos and conditioners cleaned out of the washroom he had favored, his jacket that was left lying in the console room was carefully folded onto his bed. She approached all these tasks with careful detachment, willing herself to think of him as any one of her other numerous companion.

Days started bleeding together. She found herself stuck in a pattern, one that consisted of solitude and self-recrimination. She pushed herself to her absolute limits in trying to save the universe, trying to desperately make up for all the death she had caused. She placed the weight of the world on her shoulders, defending the place he had called home, the place she had always loved as if it were home. She just hoped and prayed that in some way it was making up for at least a fraction of what she'd done.

On one particular day in her new, lonely life, the Tardis landed quietly and without her usual fuss. The Doctor was immediately set on edge by the change, warily stepping outside the doors of her safe haven. She stopped dead in her tracks at what she saw.

London. His time.

Her stomach rolled and she thought she might be sick. It was the one place she hadn't yet been able to bring herself to visit since she had said goodbye to him in Norway. She felt undeserving to even walk the streets he once had and more than that, the fear of accidentally running into his father had her staying far, far away. She turned from the sight and leant her head against the blue wooden box, taking in a few deep breaths in order to calm herself.

"Why did you take me here, old girl?" she asked tiredly, absentmindedly rubbing the worn wood with her hand. The Tardis hummed in her head, a knowing and reassuring sound. One asking for trust. She considered ignoring the Tardis and going back inside and flying the hell away from here, but when she tried to open the door to do just that, it was locked.

She sighed, her throat hitching on the sound. "Fine," she murmured as she tried to compose herself. Straightening her shoulders she faced the city again and began, with as much confidence as she could muster, a brisk walk down the streets.

She wandered aimlessly, steeling herself against the painful memories. She kept a close eye peeled for trouble, looking for any reason that the Tardis might have felt it necessary to bring her here, any kind of distraction that just might offer her a bit of solace. Unlucky and unfortunate situations seemed to follow her like a shadow anyway, so it was only a little over an hour after she had began stumbling through the streets that she found herself stopped in front of a large building. Looking up, she could see that it was surrounded by an unsettling degree of spatial disturbances that were coiling and looping around the building in quick, jerky movements. Since the thready coils were mostly invisible to the naked eye, the people who passed by on the street were completely oblivious to the the way that they were embracing their hospital. To her keen senses, however, they flashed brighter than a neon sign.

It was second nature to pull out her screwdriver and scan the building, ignoring the odd looks that were shot at her. Plasma coils, she found, were the source of the faint traces that were running rampant around the building. Very odd indeed. Definitely something that needed to be examined more closely, because there were hundreds of reasons that plasma coils could be surrounding this building and none of them that she particularly liked. It would require a bit of investigation, though, if she wanted to stop whatever it was. The ideal situation would be to pose herself as a doctor, but that would be difficult to pull off even with the psychic paper. Trying to convince them that they'd been expecting her when they hadn't would ultimately make them suspicious of her. Plus, that route sounded like it would involve paperwork and credentials and resumes and interviews and a load of other boring things she didn't really have time for. What she needed was something quick and easy. The only other option then would be to pose herself as a patient, although this brought it's own complications in the form of her very alien biology. Still, she wasn't much one for thinking all the details through anyway. She could just wing it.

The reception area was sleek and polished and impersonal and the Doctor was reminded just why hospital weren't really her thing, ironically enough. Each step she took caused her trainers to make a small squeaking sound against the linoleum floor and her distaste only rose. Not even the little shop in the corner could brighten her seemingly permanent rotten mood.

She approached the reception desk warily to be met by a smiling man with a handsome, sweet looking face. She blanched when she saw what he was wearing. Pinstripes. It felt like a punch to the gut. Admittedly, this man's look was much more sophisticated than John's ever was. His suit was sharp, masterfully tailored, and a deep midnight blue. It still hurt, however, more than she thought possible to see another man in the familiar clothes. She gritted her teeth, and pushed herself forward, rather than running back out of the building like every sense in her was telling her to do.

As she approached the desk the man gave her a warm, slightly distracted smile. "Hello, miss. How can I help you?"

"Stomach pains." It was the first thing to come to mind and it was as good as any cover story she figured. She added a little wince for effect, holding an arm across her middle and fidgeting to emulate a discomfort that wasn't there. The man only nodded sympathetically, having probably heard the same symptom told to him all morning. He handed her a clipboard. "I'll just need you to fill this out," he explained, as his eyes darted over her shoulder then quickly back to her face again, an odd expression in his eyes that was almost like recognition. The look, however, was quickly buried behind his cool professional mask again, making her doubt she'd even seen it in the first place. She nodded to him, her lips pursing just a tad suspiciously before she grabbed the clipboard and moved to sit down in one of the small plastic chairs that adorned the waiting room.

Her pen flew across the thankfully minimal paperwork, lies filling the sheet easily enough. Once finished she went to take the papers off the clipboard only to have the metal zap her. She dropped the clipboard and papers, startled. Her fingers went to her mouth in habit, sucking on the injured digits to take the edge of the slight pain, much like she did when the Tardis zapped her. The back of her neck prickled as someone approached her and she was surprised to whip around and find that same man again standing in front of her. He bent and gathered her papers together in a neat pile and tentatively put them back on the clipboard. Then unnervingly he began staring intently at her stung finger that still took up residence in her mouth. "That's been happening all morning," he said quietly, mostly to himself. She saw him glance around her shoulder out another window and she followed his gaze to the faint lines of the plasma coils, moving erratically outside the building, twisting and turning around each other, before they calmed back down again. She met the man's eyes, surprised he'd detected them.

"Yeah?" she asked, trying to keep her voice nonchalant. He nodded with a distracted air. "That's rather...odd," she trailed off in what was hopefully a leading manner.

At her words the man seemed to snap out of his strange stupor and gave her a bright smile. "Must just be a storm approaching. Anyway, let me get you registered in the system. A nurse will be calling you shortly."

She looked closely at his eyes as he said this, getting the feeling that this man knew quite more then he was letting on. Her own eyes narrowed at him, but already he was beginning to turn and walk away. She went to follow him, hoping to somehow get more answers from him, but then quickly stopped herself in her tracks. No. She had rules now. Ones where she did not get involved with anyone whatsoever, no matter the circumstances. She would figure this out on her own, like she'd been doing for the last few months. She didn't need his help, or anyone's for that matter. Especially not to figure out what was going on around here.

Still, her eyes cut over to examine him as he was typing away at the computer. His head popped up frequently to glance with furrowed brows out the window and once or twice they even glanced at her, the confusion and worry only growing on his face as the minutes passed. She'd almost convinced herself that maybe just a quick chat with him wouldn't hurt (he obviously knew something of what was going on) when a nurse called her name. Sighing, she followed the cheerful brunette woman down the hallway.

She was brought to a room where the nurse proceeded to ask her questions. She answered them dutifully and then swiftly evaded the woman when she went to begin checking other routine items such as temperature and heartbeat.

It was an impulse decision when she brought her hands up to the woman's temples and softly entered her mind to plant false memories of having already checked her vitals. The Doctor winced a little when she let the woman go. Such a violation as entering another's mind uninvited was enough to make bile rise to her throat, necessary to her safety as it might've been. Still, she didn't know what had possessed her to go to such extreme measures. The nurse who had already started happily writing down the false information the moment the connection had broken, shot her a sympathetic look, taking her discomfort as being caused by her supposed illness. "Don't worry, Ms. Smith, we'll get you all sorted out soon enough," the nurse promised her. The kind words only served to make the Doctor more guilty. Luckily the nurse left shortly after that and she was able to let loose a small breath.

Her course of action now was to maintain this little charade for a few days and check out the place at night to see if she could find anything to help her piece together what was going on. Maybe if she was lucky, she would even run into that man again. Just because she wasn't getting involved anymore, she told herself, didn't mean she couldn't question him and it was starting to feel increasingly urgent that she did.

Time passed in her little hospital room, with nurses and doctor flitting about to check on her or run a few tests, which led to more misdirection on her part much to her increasing guilt. The whole ordeal was starting to make her restless and jumpy. Sitting in her little bed and awaiting the cover of night was simply the most mind-numbingly boring way to past the time. It gave her mind to much free time to wonder, and her thoughts, like they always did, flitted to John. She wondered what he might be up to in that other world. Would he be traveling with their other selves or would he have settled down on their parallel Earth? Either option made her stomach clench painfully and she tried desperately to focus on the matter at hand again.

She observed more of the weird behavior as the day wore on. Frequently, she saw people getting zapped or shocked, and the plasma coils seemed to become more active as time passed, twirling rapidly around the building. They were barely detectable if you didn't know they were there, but her advanced eyesight made it all too easy to make them out clearly.

She started to grow uneasy as the weird behavior of the coils only intensified in nature. There was something very wrong here, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"The rain!" someone shouted out in the hallway, suddenly, startling her from her anxious thoughts. She quickly looked towards the window again to see that it was indeed raining...but _upwards._ The rain was going up. Suddenly, a sense of dread filled her as she realized exactly what was happening and why plasma coils had been surrounding this hospital. Oh, wasn't she just so utterly thick? She braced herself against the bed as the rocking started. The lights flickering on and off as the hospital began tipping backward and forward violently, equipment and machinery hitting the floor with a crash. People all around were shouting and panicking, grabbing ahold of the nearest object to steady themselves against. Then just as suddenly, the lights flickered back on and the building was once again still. For one long moment everything was completely silent. Then as if a switch had been flicked, a movie un-paused, the panicking started up again full force, voices rising and falling over one another in a crescendo of fear.

"Earthquake-"

"Is that the Earth?"

"What the hell! We're on the fucking _moon_-"

The Doctor quickly hopped out of her little bed and pressed her face up against the window for a closer look. It was dark outside and her stomach plummeted when she indeed saw the Earth beaming at them in the distance. Quickly she grabbed her clothes and threw on the jeans and blue leather jacket that she had begun wearing over the passing months with a practiced ease and then began making her way through the crowded hallway.

All around doctors and nurses were trying to calm the panicking patients and she swept passed them all, ignoring their pleas for everyone to get back to their rooms and remain calm. Instead she went searching for some kind of balcony to step out on, hoping to learn more of this enthralling situation she found herself in; eager for the most welcome distraction of adventure. Already her blood was singing with adrenaline and her mind was driving thoughts of him away so she could focus her mind power on the problem before her.

When she finally tracked down a set of double doors that led to the outside world, she was completely surprised to see that someone was already out there, leaning casually against the railing with his face cupped in his palm. It was clearly the man from before.

She opened the door and stepped out to join him. He was looking upwards at the twinkling stars, his face bathed in Earth light. He seemed to be at total ease with the predicament. However, he did jump just a little at the sound of her approach.

"Oh," he said. "I wasn't really expecting company." She raised an eyebrow in reply and he gave a little chuckle before saying, "Not many people, I think, would have the guts to step out onto a balcony when their hospital's just been transported to the moon."

"Well, they'd be missing out then." She crossed her arms defensively and he gave her an amused look in return.

"That they would be," he said, voice steady. He sweeped his arms out to the Earth. "Look at the view. Beautiful."

She gave a ghost of a smile. Probably her first genuine one in awhile.

"What's your name?" she asked. It was out of her mouth before she could stop herself. Damn it. She was not supposed to be getting involved. She was not supposed to be asking for names. She was supposed to be figuring out the problem and then leaving as quickly and silently as she had come. What was she doing?

"Ianto. Ianto Jones," he replied. She willed herself to say no more, to leave before she got in too deep, but curiosity won out and she found her mouth opening again despite her brain telling her to keep it firmly shut. She scrubbed a hand over her face as she gave in to the brilliant allure of companionship.

"Well, Ianto Jones, care to tell me how you recognized those plasma coils earlier?" she asked, her voice feeling heavy on her tongue. There was no going back now, she had done what she had promised herself she wouldn't do and had gotten involved again.

His eyes widened a touch, but otherwise his face remained smooth and calm, the perfect poker face. "Plasma coils?" he asked.

"Yes, I saw you looking at them out the window. You knew they were there. I could tell, could see it in your face. Humans can't detect those kind of spatial disturbances. Not with the naked eye. Unless..."

"Unless what?" he asked lightly. She squinted her eyes at him, gauging. "Unless you're not human," she said slowly. He laughed at that, laughed and laughed, clutching his sides.

"Nope, I am most definitely human," he said succinctly after calming himself, although his lip did twitch just a smidgen as he spoke, as if he wanted to curl them into a smirk. She sighed in frustration and whipped out her screwdriver and pointed it at him. The tip lit up blue and a gentle whirring emitted from the machine. He put his hands up, but didn't so much as flinch.

She looked at the results to see he was telling the truth and grumbled a little in annoyance.

"That looks like a sonic device," he said confidently, putting his hands back down to his side. She scowled again.

"Yes," she confirmed moodily.

He gave her a rather charming smile. There was a twinkle in his eye and though she was not often prone to violence she sorta felt like shaking him roughly by the shoulders. She always usually had the upper hand in these kind of situations and this man, with his calm and in control demeanor, was starting to rub her the wrong way.

"You seem very unfazed by all of this. I pretty much just accused you of being an alien and on top of that we've been transported to the moon." She looked him over again with narrowed eyes. "Why aren't you panicking like the rest of them?"

He smiled. "All in a day's work."

"Oh really?" Her voice was sarcastic. "As a hospital receptionist?" He remained totally unfazed by the jab. Bastard.

"Oh, but you see," he said, leaning toward her conspiratorially, "that's just a cover story and I have a feeling you might be able to relate to such a thing. I'm really here for the...what did you call them? Plasma coils? That's a much better name than what my team's been calling them."

"Your team," she squeaked. "There's more of you?"

"Of course. Not here right now though. We didn't really think the coils were of much concern, but I still wanted to check them out. I like to be thorough. Glad I came." He gestured out to the Earth again.

She eyed him critically. "Who's we," she asked, voice holding a note of edge. Warning bells were starting to go off in her head, but for some reason she couldn't quite get the pieces to totally add up.

His answer made her blood run cold. "Torchwood, of course."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: The italics are a flashback! **

* * *

**Chapter 3: And the Past will Always Come to Haunt Me**

_Thirty-two days, twelve hours, and four minutes. That was how long it had been since he'd last seen her face on that horrid beach. And despite not being a Time Lord, John had still felt every millisecond of that absence. But what really hurt, what really threatened to break him was the way that the words she'd spoken to him during that final goodbye (and more heartbreakingly, the ones she had not), refused to leave him alone; were vicious in the way that they crept up on him and weaved they're way both into his unconscious and conscious mind, demanding his attention._

_Quite right, too._

_And I suppose...if it's one last chance to say it..._

_So you've got that lot then, Rose and the other Doctor._

_I miss you, too._

_You can't._

_I-_

_At this point, John was sure he could recite the entire thing word for word. He had spent endless, sleepless nights after all examining every little detail of that encounter. The inflection of her voice, the hitches in her breath over certain words, the devastation that had played out across her beautiful features..._

_John was determined however, to not let himself fall apart again. While he missed her desperately, while her loss was still such a fresh, raw ache deep to the center of his whole being, getting to see her that one last time had also filled him with a sense hope. She hadn't said the words, but she hadn't needed to. She was going to, and that was what ultimately mattered in the end. And even though it had been goodbye, even though both Doctors had been insistent that there was no way back, John had still been filled with an unassailable determination to find a way home again, just by seeing her. She instilled in him, had always instilled in him, the belief that impossible was just another word, and that there was always, always a way to fix any problem. She made him want to keep fighting. Fighting for what was right, fighting for her; he would not let her down, by letting himself be beaten down._

_So on the thirty-third day of what John considered his own personal exile into this parallel world, he awoke with a fresh sense of purpose. While he no longer needed Rose to persuade him to even just drag himself out of bed anymore, he still hadn't been able to bring himself to travel with the pair of them. Not that they hadn't offered. Weeelll, not that Rose hadn't offered. Almost on a daily basis, actually. But for the last few weeks John had always just mumbled his excuses and went about his day wandering aimlessly through the Tardis until they had come back. The thought of going someplace new, a new sun shining down on his face, new ground underneath his feet, a new sky above his head, new stars and galaxies and constellations swirling in the sky around him, just hadn't seemed appealing without her hand to hold. But now, now John finally felt he was ready to face the world again, even if it wasn't the world he had been born and raised in. He couldn't just wallow in his own self-pity for the rest of his life; giving up was never an option after all, as she had taught him._

_So, steeling his nerves John entered the console room on that thirty-third day to find that the Doctor and Rose were already there, faces eager and caught in a deep discussion about their next adventure._

_"-And they have this way of talking, oh, it'll charm the pants off you Rose! Supposed to be one of the top ten most beautiful sounds in the universe. Richer than any note of music an instrument of Earth could produce. Although, I'm going to need to turn the translation circuit off so you can hear how it's truly spoken, come to think of it...But they're a brilliant race, the Turneski. They have six different mouths you know, all specially designed-"_

_"Erm," John spoke up, over the Doctor's rambling. The Time Lord's mouth shut with an audible click and both he and Rose turned to examine him curiously. John shifted uncomfortably under their combined gaze._

_"Hello John," Rose said brightly. "Did you need something before we headed off?"_

_"Weelll...actually, I was, umm, w-wondering if I might be able to, well, come with you today?"_

_Silence._

_"Only," John said hurriedly, feeling his face heat up at their dumbfounded expressions, "if that's all right?" He looked at them hopefully._

_"Yes!" Rose exclaimed loudly, and then coughed when both John and the Doctor jumped at her outburst. More softly she said, "yes, yes of course you can come."_

_John nodded. "Good, good." They all stared at one another, the seconds ticking by loudly. John swallowed, his throat working. "So, umm, the Blurnseki then..." he trailed off._

_"Turneski," the Doctor corrected automatically, resuming his motion around the Tardis, haphazardly flicking switches and buttons with an unreadable expression on his face. "Yes the Turneski-" He launched back into his lecture._

_Rose smiled kindly at him from where she was sitting on the jump seat and he gave her a small, tentative smile back. He still felt as if he was carrying a heavy burden with him, one he felt might never truly lighten, but right now, even with the awkward starts and stops, John thought that maybe, just maybe, he could do this. He could travel with them, still do a bit of good in the universe, and all the while he would work on finding a way back to her._

_He had promised her forever after all._

* * *

Rose's injury was almost fully healed by now, and it was obvious she was getting restless. She'd begged the Doctor almost constantly since she'd been injured to take her somewhere to relieve her boredom, but the other man was adamant that she needed time to rest and heal. This had annoyed Rose to no end, but she allowed the Doctor to well, _doctor_ her, seeming to sense his need to do something to make up for what had happened.

It was obvious, however, when John stepped out into the console room around a week following her injury that Rose had finally been given a clean bill of health (thanks to the advanced technology carried by the Tardis infirmary). She was helping the Time Lord pilot the Tardis currently, moving around without a bit of discomfort from what John could tell. However when he finally took a good look at what they were wearing, John gasped. He was hit with a strong, almost overwhelming sense of deja vu as he took in the achingly familiar clothes; Rose in a poodle skirt, fishnets, and pink heels, and the Doctor with his coiffed hair and trademark pinstripe suit. John could so clearly remember when his own Doctor had dressed up in that skirt back in his home universe. He remembered the coronation, the wire, his face...

He floundered for a moment looking between the two of them. It was obvious this was supposed to be some sort of special trip in celebration of Rose being well again. John could practically see the happiness radiating of the pair. They were grinning at one another widely and totally unaware of what would happen next. But John knew. Oh, did he know. And yet, he felt stuck, unsure of what he should do as he regarded the laughing pair, both of whom were chasing one another around the console and shooting flirty glances at every chance they could get.

Would events even happen in the same way, John wondered as he watched the oblivious couple link hands with one another. So far all of their stories seemed to match up, and the brown-haired Doctor had said that they would continue to...It's just now that the time had come, and John happened to be here with them to actually witness such a thing happen, he wasn't sure how to handle it. Could he tell them of what would happen for them next? About how his face had been taken? Or would that ruin the timelines? He wanted to tell them. He remembered how shaken up he had been when his own face had been stripped from his body, how frightened and angry the Doctor had been. But could he risk such a thing, simply for the peace of mind of knowing that they wouldn't suffer in that same way? After everything Rose had been through lately, she didn't deserve to go through this.

The banter of the Doctor and Rose as they moved around the Tardis was also achingly familiar. Just as much as the scooter propped up in the corner was. John felt sick as conflicting emotions bubbled up in him.

Rose caught his expression first and looked at him concernedly. "You all right, John?" Her face was open and sincere. He could only nod weakly.

"You don't look so well," his double chimed in, though he hardly bothered to look up from the console. John rolled his eyes, used to the other man's behavior.

"I-I, no I suppose not. I don't feel really well. I think I'll sit this one out." Better to be safe than sorry, he supposed, even if the guilt would eat him alive.

The Doctor shrugged, looking rather pleased it would just be the two of them. "Suit yourself."

Rose, however, still looked concerned. "Are you sure? We can stay and look after you if you'd like. I'll make you soup. I don't want to leave you if you're not feeling well."

He and Rose had gained a special relationship ever since he had gotten here. She had saved him, those first few weeks when he didn't think he would be able to go on. He still missed his Doctor fiercely and was still holding out on the hope that he would be able to get back to her, but while he was trapped in this universe, Rose was the only thing keeping him going. Mostly because they understood one another so much, knew what it was like to be the Doctor's companion. They were able to talk honestly about things that the Doctor (either of them) would never dare talk about, like their fear after a particularly rattling adventure. She understood his pain at losing his Doctor more than anyone else ever could, because she knew to the extent of what he had lost, what his feelings had been. He was able to talk to her, confide in her about such things, and she seemed to benefit from being able to open up to someone as well.

John knew that this was where a lot of the problems between himself and the brown-haired Doctor stemmed from. John could tell that the other man was uneasy whenever they spent so much time together (despite the fact that otherwise Rose was always with the Time Lord). The Doctor wasn't outright unfriendly with John (perhaps because he remembered how unkindly his Doctor had treated Rose or perhaps because he knew that John was much too tore up over losing his own Doctor to be much of a threat) and in true Doctor style, he never said anything about it, but John could tell he was bothered by how close they'd become. His distant and tight manner with him gave it away more than anything. John had seen the same sort of attitude emerge in his own Doctor when they had all met up, and so it was not to difficult to recognize the signs now, in this other Doctor.

At one point, John had even tried to talk to the other man about it. Not that he had gotten very far. The Doctor had immediately blown him off. That topic was obviously not up for discussion. John couldn't find it in himself to stop talking so much with Rose. He cared for her and he feared that if he stopped he wouldn't be able to find it in himself to keep hoping he would get back to his own Doctor. She was always saying they would find a way back somehow and she was always the quickest to fill him with hope when he desperately needed her optimistic view to keep himself from falling apart.

John still however felt a tad guilty that he was causing the other man so much stress over something so silly. John was also hoping, however, that maybe it would help push him towards Rose, rather than away. Ever since her injury, he had seemed to be rather closer to her. About time to, when John knew first hand how quickly that time could run out. How fast everything could be taken so ruthlessly away.

Coming back from his thoughts, John could see out of the corner of his eye the Doctor visibly deflate at Rose's offer. He began sulkily twiddling with a knob on the Tardis, his eyes downcast. He could see the disappointment shining in Rose's eyes as well, though she tried to hide it. John's heart clenched. "No thank you. You both should go, you're all dressed up, anyhow. I'll be fine."

The Doctor brightened up immediately. "Yeah, Rose. He can call if he needs anything. The Tardis'll look after him." He patted the center column affectionately.

"Oh all right," she gave in. "Feel bet-"

With a flourish the Doctor grabbed her hand and after strapping the bright pink helmet firmly on her head and donning his own helmet, they both were riding out of the Tardis.

John awaited impatiently for them to return, hands running through his hair nonstop in his worry. They could handle it, he reminded himself frequently as the time ticked steadily away, eating at his nerves and filling him with impending dread. He had done the right thing, could feel it in his gut. He needed to not interfere with the proceeding of this universe as much as possible. That was what the Doctor had told him when he had first arrived here.

It didn't, however, stop the guilt from ravaging him when they once again entered the Tardis, tired and battered. Rose had a forced smile on her face, but was trembling slightly. She excused herself almost immediately to go to sleep.

The Doctor, however, turned to him with a suddenly piercing look. "You knew," he accused. John felt his heart squeeze in his chest and guilt fill his veins. He should have known that the Doctor would be able to pick up on that somehow.

"I'm sorry," John said quietly. What else could he say? The Doctor gave him a tight look in return before he took in a shuddering breath and said, "Why didn't you warn me? Why didn't you come? Rose-"

"I know," John said quietly. "I remember."

"You should've-"

"You know I couldn't. All our stories, all the adventures from both our universes and the way they match up...What if I told you and as a result something changed? Timelines could rupture. We can't take that chance."

"To hell with the timelines," the Doctor snapped. "Her face was gone. How could you let that happen to her, when you knew? After what's she's been through, this was supposed to be a nice, relaxing trip for her! You should've told me, I could've..."

The Doctor's voice had gone high and desperate, the fear he had been suppressing bubbling up to the surface. John closed his eyes.

"How about I tell you what happens now?"

The Doctor blinked, halting his angry tirade and regarding John warily and with measured surprise.

"What? What are you talking about?" His voice was just a tad short, his hands gesturing his annoyance.

"She'll have a nightmare tonight," John started, voice wavering as the memories came crashing back to the surface. "Face gone, everything so empty, and she'll cry out in her sleep. You'll go and comfort her." John looked away, unable to face the other man. He could remember it all with perfectly clarity; the way she had held him and comforted him that night. God, it hurt to remember. It was all so unfair. "She'll ask you to stay and you will. You'll h-hold her while she sleeps." John opened his mouth again, getting ready to reveal something more, then resignedly he closed his mouth and switched tactics, he choked out a, "Savor it while it lasts, Doctor."

With that he turned on his heel to make his way to his bedroom, ignoring the other man's stricken face.

John laid in his bed that night, staring at the ceiling, unable to push down the memories like he had been so forcefully doing for the last few months. The tears of guilt and loss left silent tracks down his cheeks and he didn't bother to brush them away. When he heard the familiar sound of converse shoes slapping quietly against the floor past his room he had to suppress a half-choked, bitter laugh down.

That night, like always, he dreamed of falling.

* * *

It was with trepidation that John entered the console room the next morning, feeling both weary and broken. He expected to be brushed off cooly by the brown-haired man, expected the atmosphere to be tense between them, but was surprised to find that the Doctor didn't pay him much mind at all. Instead he only had eyes for Rose, following her every movement the next morning with a soft intensity. They seemed much more at ease with one another, more so than John had ever seen them before, which was most definitely saying something. John watched as that whole morning, they stole glances and shared small caresses: tiny brushes of fingertips to arms and whispers of contact as they leaned into one another. They, for the most part, completely ignored that he even existed at all in favor of one another. Not that the Doctor didn't still appear to be guarded in some manner, as if he was almost there at the tipping point, almost ready to finally give in, but not quite. Still, one would have to be blind to not see that something had definitely changed in their dynamic. Not that he was really surprised by such a change. John had already begun to see bits of the Doctor's walls coming down after he'd almost lost Rose to that gun shot wound. Compounded now with the incident with the wire and it seemed to be finally getting through the Doctor's head that there was no more time to waste. Just one more push, John thought, would do it.

He was wrong.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Old and New Friends**

She invited him to come with her.

No, no. That was getting ahead of himself just a bit. She hadn't been happy to learn that he was apart of Torchwood. Actually, she had been rather furious about it, despite his insistence that Torchwood three was nothing like Torchwood one. That had been expected though: her anger. He'd read the file, he knew what had happened at Torchwood one. The story of the window and her companion, John. Ianto may have never met John, but he knew well enough who the other man was as Jack often talked about both the Doctor and John, spinning impossible stories about the adventures they used to take together with a wistful smile on his face.

Captain Jack Harkness was in charge of Torchwood three and was a former companion of the Doctor. He had been searching for the Doctor for as long as Ianto had been working at Torchwood. That's where a majority of Ianto's knowledge on the Doctor came from; The stories Jack wove around 'the gorgeous alien in her blue box' as he liked to put it. Ianto trusted Jack implicitly and so if the other man trusted the Doctor, then Ianto did as well.

All this had been accounted for when Ianto had watched this blonde-haired woman called the Doctor walk into the hospital. Ianto had read every file archived in Torchwood at least three times and he considered himself somewhat of an expert on almost everything, especially her. So he wasn't terribly shocked when she walked in the hospital. He wasn't terribly shocked when she blew up at him about working for Torchwood. He also wasn't shocked when she dragged him running down hallways from leather covered slabs, babbling about how they needed to find a shapeshifting alien before the Judoon found her. Ianto would even go so far as to say that he wasn't terribly shocked when she pulled him into a kiss; she was just as mad and unpredictable as Jack had always said she was.

However, what did shock Ianto was how much he had enjoyed that kiss and how much he wanted it to happen again.

She had said it meant nothing. A means for distraction. A genetic transfer. She had practically insisted upon it, willing him to understand, and yet he still couldn't get the feel of it out of his head. The way her hands had grabbed the lapels of his suit to pull him quickly and efficiently to her level. The way her lips had been firm and soft and chaste against his mouth. An almost brief contact, present but hardly lingering, almost detached. Still it was the most heart stopping, adrenaline-filled, satisfying kiss Ianto thought he had ever had the delight to receive.

It was with guilt that he had pondered that kiss in the waking hours after his return to the Earth (and after having saved the Doctor's life much like she had saved the world). This was Jack's Doctor and Ianto had the sneaking suspicion that the other man was practically in love with her with the way that he went on about her and finding her again. Yet, no matter how much he willed himself to stop thinking about the kiss, the more it popped unrelentingly into his mind.

It was safe to assume that Ianto received minimal sleep.

Still, the next day at 5:00 am sharp, Ianto found himself armed with a cup of coffee and heading as he always did to the hub. He told himself it was because he was professional, but in all honesty Ianto was eager to dig out the file on the Doctor and read it once more before the others made it in and demanded that he give details about what had really happened in that hospital. He still wasn't sure whether he should mention meeting the Doctor or not. Jack would be crushed if he learned that he had missed her once again and Ianto was unsure if he could cause the other man such pain. In that case, he would also have to start thinking of a decent cover-story.

His hands shook just the slightest bit as he searched through the cabinet under D. And ah, there it was, right after _Dogon_. Ianto frowned. He would need to take a day and double check that everything was filed away correctly.

When he opened the file he was instantly met with the face of a familiar smiling blonde with her arms wrapped around two handsome men. One he recognized, of course. Jack Harkness. Quite honestly he was hard not to recognize. The other man he only knew through stories. John Smith. Common name for an apparently, if Jack's stories were anything to go by, very uncommon man. He was tall. Brown hair that was artfully styled. A brown pinstripe suit and trainers. He was grinning widely at the camera, his eyes bright and happy. Ianto felt a small pang for this man he had never met. He'd read the rest of the file already. He knew that this man had died at Canary Wharf, according to the reports of the incident. How long ago, Ianto wondered, had this happened for the Doctor when he had met her up on the moon? It could have been centuries. Or days. There was no way of knowing.

His mind shifted gears as he took in the soft smiling features of the Doctor. Jack had been right, of course. She was stunningly gorgeous and even more so in person. Yet here in this picture she had a lightness to her, something shone in her eyes that had been absent when Ianto had met her. There was a spark here, a vibrancy captured by the camera that Ianto couldn't fully describe. Irrationally he longed to be the one to put that light back into her eyes.

What was wrong with him? For goodness sake it was just a kiss! And likely he would never even see her again. She had been off again in her blue box before he'd even had time to blink. This...this...whatever it was that he was feeling was completely ludicrous.

Of their own accord his fingers reached out to pick up the picture so he could examine it better. Her hair was longer here than when he had met her. She was wearing a hoody and jeans, in sharp contrast with the vibrant blue leather jacket she had been wearing up on the moon. Her feet were still clad in trainers, presumably because of all the running she did...

"Ianto!"

He flinched violently and the file, to his horror, launched straight out of his hand, the contents fluttering around him and spreading out in a random patterns across the concrete floor. He flushed, despite himself, turning around with a guilty expression to meet Jack's eyes.

Jack, however, only looked amused. His eyes traveling from the mess on the floor all the way up Ianto's flushing body. Ianto coughed, embarrassed.

"Sorry, sir," he stammered out, quickly bending down to try and fix the papers into some semblance of normalcy before Jack could see what they were.

"What are you doing here so early?" Jack asked, his voice borderline leering. Ianto sighed. He had long since gotten used to the Captain's rather flirtatious behavior.

Ianto shrugged as he once again stood up, everything stuffed randomly back into the folder and carefully hidden from Jack's view. "Just...organizing things."

Jack raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms as if he didn't quite buy it, but still wasn't going to question it further.

"I see. So watcha got there?" He nodded toward the file and Ianto turned red. Jack's eyes followed the way the color spread down his face to his neck.

"J-just a file. You know...on the...judoon. Met them, yesterday." Ianto swallowed thickly, knowing he'd be caught in the lie almost immediately. Admittedly, it had been rather weak and Jack was too clever not to figure it out.

"Hmm," Jack said. "I think you know better than to try and keep things from me, Ianto."

He flinched. It had been awhile ago, the ordeal with Lisa, but it still felt so fresh sometimes and guilt often wracked him that he had lead his friends to such mistrust. The jab hurt and Jack's eyes immediately softened.

"Sorry," he said, grimacing a little. "That's in the past, I shouldn't have brought it up like that."

"It's fine, sir," he replied. Automatic. Jack grimaced again. Ianto was always his most polite when he was upset.

Finally Jack sighed heavily, his voice almost tired. "Can I see the file, please?"

Ianto looked down at his shoes and held the file out to Jack. There was silence for a long moment as Jack processed what he was seeing.

"Ianto?" he finally spoke. His voice held confusion and just the slightest touch of sadness that always accompanied the American vowels when he talked of the Doctor.

"I-" Words got caught in his throat.

"Ianto." Jack's voice was a warning this time, a command. "Tell me what's going on."

He looked up and met the other man's blue eyes and whispered, "I met her yesterday."

Jack dropped the file. Then his eyes widened. Or perhaps his eyes widened and then he dropped the file. Ianto couldn't be sure, he was too focused on making sure his heart didn't pound right out of his chest.

"W-what." Jack's voice sounded small and fragile. Ianto was met with the horrifying thought that he had just broke this seemingly immortal, unbreakable man.

"I met the Doctor yesterday." His voice came out strong and clear this time, despite the fact that Ianto felt anything but.

"I don't understand." Jack was shaking his head as if he refused to believe the words he was hearing.

"I met the Doctor. Helped her save the world, actually. Yesterday. In the hospital. Plasma coils, the temporal disturbance-thingy around the hospital. Jack I told you we needed to check it out." Ianto's voice was practically shaking as he rushed to get the words out as fast and painlessly as possible.

"I-"

"I'm sorry," Ianto said quickly. "She was gone before I could say anything. Everything just happened so fast...it was like..." he trailed off. There were no words for what it was like, Ianto thought, recalling the kiss.

"But maybe she'll be back, I mean, I don't know. Maybe to check..." he trailed off again. What did he think was going to happen? That the Doctor, that brilliant woman, was going to come check up on him? Pop in from exploring the wonders of the universe to see how Ianto Jones was doing? He sagged his shoulders a little at the sobering thought and Jack snorted.

"She doesn't do that. House visits," Jack said dismissively, voice almost cruel. "Why do you think I've been waiting around here for the past-"

There was suddenly a loud, jarring sound that filled the room. A sound that both Jack and Ianto thought they would never hear again. The sound of the universe.

Ianto thought his heart might've stopped and he was quite certain that Jack's had. Both their eyes were glued to the blue box materializing, right in the middle of the hub. And her file was still spilled out onto the floor between them from where Jack had just dropped it. Bloody hell. Ianto glanced down at the spilled papers, then to the awe-struck look on Jack's face, then to the worn blue door of the Tardis. He was incapable of moving even when his brain screamed at him to at least pick up her damn file off the ground.

The door opened before Ianto could pull his racing mind back together. She was still dressed in the same clothing she had been wearing when he had met her, and her back was still to them as she pulled the door shut with a definitive click. It sounded like a gunshot in the complete silence of the room. Ianto thought that neither him or Jack were even breathing.

When she turned around she wore a bright smile. Ianto frowned and quickly glanced at the photo that was still on the floor. This smile was definitely different. More forced. Ianto's heart gave another pang.

Jack was to first to speak. His voice slightly shaky and weak. One word. "Doctor?"

Her eyes at first held slight surprise when she looked to Jack, but soon that smoothed over and she smiled. This time it was softer, a little less forced. "Hello Jack." In response Jack made a sort of strangled sound, almost as if he was trying not to cry.

"And Ianto Jones!" she said jubilantly turning to him. His heart skipped a beat when she turned that bright and maybe-not-quite-so-forced smile to him. "Good to see you again. Thanks by the way, for saving my life yesterday, well yesterday for you that is. Actually that's kind of why I'm here righ-" her voice stopped dead in it's tracks.

Ianto followed her stricken gaze to the photograph still lying on the floor in a sea of papers.

Everything was silent again. Uncomfortably so.

She took a few careful steps forward toward the picture, bending carefully to retrieve it, then her eyes met Jack's.

"Canary Wharf," Jack said softly, carefully. "Doctor, there was a report. It said he...But I wasn't sure...I mean John Smith is a pretty common-"

"Don't," she cut off, voice slightly choked. "Don't say-" She couldn't finish and her eyes dropped back to the photo as if it were her salvation.

"Is he...?"

The Doctor took a shuddering breath, then said softly, "No. No, he's safe. Safe and sound. It's...he's trapped. In a parallel universe and I can't...but he's safe. That's what is important." Her voice by the end had risen decisively strong and sincere, though an undercurrent of misery still was noticeably detectable in her tone.

Jack, surprisingly, laughed at this, the sound relieved. "Oh thank god," he said, grabbing the Doctor into a swift embrace and spinning her in a circle. She joined in after a moment of hesitation with her own joyful laughter, the sound pure and melodic.

Ianto felt very out of place and shifted uncomfortably.

When Jack had put her down, her gaze was drawn to the rest of the papers spilled out onto the floor. She raised an eyebrow at Jack. "What's all this then?"

Jack winked at her. "Everything anyone would ever want to know on the Doctor. Embarrassing and scandalous stories not withheld."

She giggled. "You haven't change a bit, Jack."

He gazed at her, suddenly serious. "You have."

She wrinkled her nose. "Is it the hair? I've only just cut it, but I think it-"

"Not the hair Doctor," he said softly, then he brushed his thumb gently under her eye. "You look sad." She turned away from him, immediately, body suddenly stiff and her voice going cold. "I'm all right, Jack. I'm always all right." Ianto didn't miss the way she quickly stuffed the photo into her pocket.

"Doctor-"

"We're being rude Jack," she said curtly. "To Ianto. And that's why I came in the first place." She turned to him. "To say thank you for saving my life." Despite himself, Ianto felt his cheeks heat up.

"It was nothing," he said, voice slightly embarrassed.

She smiled.

"Well then. How about it Ianto Jones? How would you like to come with me? As a thank you?"


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Just be aware that not everything in this story will be explained all at once, but everything, for the most part, will be important in some way in the future, so if you have questions, I can guarantee they will be addressed at some point. Also, I should probably say that if your looking for fluff this isn't the place to be. Last thing, this story does (obviously) utilize canon elements although isn't necessarily the focus of the story, but anything recognizable isn't mine. Thanks!**

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**Chapter 5: The Beast in the Pit**

John's stomach was in knots as he sat through breakfast that morning. The Doctor and Rose were completely oblivious to his uneasiness, caught up in each other as they were, but that was just as well. John already knew what was wrong. When he'd awoken that morning he had almost immediately felt off. There was some sort of resonance in his body that set him on edge, as if he could sense that things must inevitably fall a certain way today and that there would be nothing he could to do to stop that. Like a sixth sense. The only other time he had ever felt like this was when the wire had happened, not but a week or so ago, so John had a pretty solid idea about where the Tardis would be landing next. At least this time he was more prepared for the almost scary familiarity in which the Doctor and Rose were talking to one another. And while he knew what was coming, he also knew that he had done the right thing before in keeping it from them, and that he would have to continue doing so, however long things continued to match up. However, this didn't stop the worry from burrowing it's way into his heart as he knew precisely the horrors and fear they would witness next. Ones that would make the incident with the wire a few weeks back look like child's play.

"Could you drop me off, today? Maybe in London for awhile," he spoke up suddenly. It was the first thing he'd said all morning and both the Doctor and Rose broke eye contact with one another to glance at him questioningly.

"Sorry?" the Doctor said. "Did you just ask to be dropped off in London for a few days? Why would you want to be dropped off there? It's not like you have anyone to visit-"

"Doctor!" Rose whispered harshly before slapping him in the arm, to which she got a rather perturbed look back from the pin-striped Time Lord. "You can't just say things like that. It's rude!" Rose turned back to him and smiled. "What do you want to do in London, John?"

He shrugged, ignoring the other man's comment (he was used to his rudeness by now). "Just...I don't know, look around I guess." He resisted the urge to wince. They both regarded him curiously, shooting him suspicious glances, but otherwise they didn't question him. Sometimes, he thought that they might just be appeasing him when he made any sort of request, hoping to help drag him out of the melancholy moods that still periodically plagued him.

"Alright then," the Doctor chirped. "I guess we can take a visit to good ol' London town. You haven't had a visit with your mum in awhile Rose, and then John will be able to explore to his heart's content."

"No!" John panicked. Already with the Doctor's declaration John could feel that familiarity of the morning easing away and foreboding creep up in his system, and somehow he knew that was very bad. The Doctor furrowed his eyebrows. "Or...not," the other man said slowly, as he studied John intently. Then understanding came across the Time Lord's features as he realized exactly what was going on. Quickly the Doctor spoke up with false cheer, "Oh! Yes, yes. Right you are John. You want to be dropped off by yourself and then picked up in a few days, right? Yes. Some alone time, eh? Yes, yes I can do that!" The Doctor nodded his head up and down enthusiastically. Rose looked between them both of them half confused and half amused.

"What's going on here?" she asked, grinning just slightly.

"Absolutely nothing! Nope! Nothing at all! Right then! You, Miss Tyler might want to start getting ready for the day. It'll just be a quick jaunt to London, then off we pop, yes. Go on then," he said, shooing her out of the kitchen. She raised her eyebrow amusedly, but otherwise didn't comment and sauntered her way out of the kitchen. Once she was gone, the Doctor turned back to give John a serious look.

"You know what happens next, then?"

John nodded. "Yes. I can...feel it somehow. A sort of familiarity in the air. It's like I just know. Know that today is one of those days when one of our adventures will match up. Don't know how I can, but well..."

"Hmm," the Doctor responded, deep in thought. "I think that there might actually be a relatively simple explanation for that. I have a theory, but well...Do the words Bad Wolf mean anything to you?"

"Well, yes, but how did you-"

"Ahh remember," the Doctor cut him off, "things happen similarly here from where your from. Rose took in the heart of the Tardis at one point and I'm assuming you did the same in your universe. Based off how things have been going so far, I believed such a guess wouldn't be too much of a leap. Am I right?"

"Yes, that happened for me as well," John said, voice soft, as memories flooded his mind of turning the Daleks to dust. When he had come to on the console room floor after that ordeal it had been one of the scariest moments of his life, watching the Doctor babble on about something or another while a soft golden energy was building up under her skin. She'd seemed absolutely frightened as she held up her hand in front of her face watching it dance around her skin. She'd looked to him with something like anguish on her face and then just as suddenly her eyes had gone hard with determination and she'd put her hands on the Tardis console and all he remembered after that was her screaming as the golden substance was poured back into and around her ship. She'd collapsed after that and when she'd come to, she'd haltingly explained to him about regeneration and how with the help of her ship she'd just been able to avoid it, dangerous as it might've been. It wasn't something, she'd been sure to tell him, that she could always avoid in that same manner. What she'd done was completely unprecedented. It had been a passing thought she'd had, that perhaps since her connection with the Tardis was so much stronger in that moment than usual, with the heart of the Tardis having been recently opened, maybe she could utilize that increased link with her ship to stop the regeneration process just after the healing stage. It had worked, even if she admitted how reckless of an idea it had been. John had made her promise to never attempt something like that again, he'd rather her change if she had to, than risk her life.

"As Bad Wolf you would have had all that time running through your head-" the Doctor said, interrupting his thoughts.

"Everything that ever is or was or will be," John whispered.

The Doctor observed him with an inscrutable expression. "Yes, quite. And you see with all that time in your head, it's bound to leave a bit of an echo. She, your Doctor that is, took most of it out, I'm sure, like I did with Rose, but being in this universe where time runs differently from yours, I'm not surprised that you're able to pick up on certain signatures in the timelines, like major event or fixed points here, especially ones that would have been similar to your universe, ones that you would have lived through already."

"It does feel the same as it did with the wire a few weeks back. Although the outfits gave it away more than anything."

The Doctor smiled a little. "Exactly. A fixed event on our side, one that you have already lived through, one that probably elicited strong emotions from you, could easily be sensed if a small piece of Bad Wolf still echoes inside you. It's new timelines, ones that might verge a little off course from you universe or things that you're unfamiliar with that would be harder to read. And I'm sure you're sensing it as more of a feeling, like you said. A gut instinct. That's the only way, with your human senses, that you would be able to process it since you aren't a Time Lord and can't properly read the timelines."

John nodded contemplatively. "So you can sense it too then?"

"No, not really. Not this. Usually I can, can see the things that are fixed and that must happen a certain away on certain worlds. This however, is too closely tied to my own timeline and Rose's, and I can't see any of that, not without considerable risk." The Doctor paused for a moment thoughtfully. "Although, what I really don't understand is why you can't just stay on the Tardis? Like before?" The Doctor raised his eyebrow.

John swallowed. " Its just...I have to leave. It's necessary. At least until this is all over. Then you can just come and get me again."

The Doctor stared at him hard for a few seconds and John fidgeted in his chair. "If that's what you think is best."

"I do."

"Alright then. Best be on our way. We'll meet you in the console room. And I should be able to whip you up some cash to last you a few days."

It was not but a few minutes later that the Tardis was landing with a jerk and shudder in the streets of London.

"Here we are then! Off you go! See you soon! Hasta la vista! Ehh, well maybe not that last one," the Doctor said, grimacing.

John was just about to exit the Tardis with those...lovely parting words when Rose spoke up. "Wait, John."

He turned to her. "Yep?" He couldn't fully meet her eyes.

She looked between both him and the Doctor with a determined expression. "There's something going on here that you're not telling me. The pair of you. Why don't you just stay on the Tardis? What's going on here?"

John smiled sadly at her. He really shouldn't have expected her to just accept it. Rose didn't 'just accept' anything if she didn't understand it. He briefly met eyes with his other self whose face was tight with understanding. John brushed a piece of her hair back (a habit formed with his own Doctor that he couldn't seem to break, despite the fact it always earned him a glare from the brown-haired Doctor) and said, "I best sit this one out. Don't worry though, you'll be seeing me again soon. Both of you. Can't get rid of me," he said as forcefully as he could without attracting her suspicion. The subtle nod from his look-alike showed that he had gotten the message. He gave Rose a friendly hug and then clapped the Doctor, somewhat awkwardly on the back. Things were still not perfect between him and the other man, but John thought they just might be getting a little bit better between them. "Best be on your way, then," he said. "See you both soon." His smile was strained.

Rose looked ready to protest further, but before she could the Doctor dragged her back to the Tardis.

John wandered the streets, trying to decide where he would stay. The London on this world seemed so much dinkier, the colors so plain and dull, and he found a wave of home sickness crashing over him. He was lost. This wasn't his home, this universe or his other self's Tardis. None of it was. He walked quickly through the streets as he continued his search. He couldn't stand the sights and discrepancies of this London with his own any longer.

He stayed mostly hidden away in his room in a hotel for the next twenty-four hours. He couldn't bear to explore, couldn't bear to be reminded. Another day passed and he started to get just a touch anxious. He pushed the worries aside, it had barely been a day and a half. No need to break down over that. They would come back for him.

They would come back for him, wouldn't they?

A week passed and he started to feel a bit panicked. They wouldn't just leave him here without a word, would they? Maybe the Doctor would, but surely not Rose. Already the money his other self had slipped him was dwindling. What would he do if they never came back for him? He had no money, no identity in this world. He wouldn't be able to get a job without any documents. He had nothing. He was alone and they had left him. Not to mention that they were his only chance at being able to get back to his _real_ home again, although admittedly his hope for getting back had been swindling as of late.

The situation reminded him much too strongly of the time his own Doctor had sent him away to try and keep him safe back on Satellite Five. The memory was painful and he felt panic steadily rise in him as the hours passed.

He had trouble sleeping when night came around. Worry ate at his stomach ferociously and he knew that he would have to start coming up with a plan soon; he couldn't just sit here forever. Anger started to burn slowly behind his anxiousness. One more day. He would give them one more day, then he would start thinking seriously about alternatives.

He stared at the ceiling that night, ears strained for even the slightest hint of the Tardis, the familiar grinding sound, the sound of the universe. It came sometime around four in the morning, the blue box slowly easing into existence right at the foot of his bed. He stood up rapidly, heart pounding in relief at the familiar sight. "Oh thank god," he whispered breathlessly.

Rose stepped out first. A pink jacket fitted to her body and black mascara lines around her red-rimmed eyes. Oh. She had been crying. Guilt added rapidly to his tumultuous emotions. She flung her arms around him and he held her tightly. She shook in his arms, but otherwise didn't make a sound. He felt all the anger leaving his body, and worry (which honestly was never far behind his anger) slowly took its place.

"Shh," he soothed, gently stroking her hair. His eyes lifted searchingly for his other self, but the Tardis door remained stubbornly closed.

"I t-thought," she said, voice slightly choked. "I thought we would never be able to see you again. That we had left you trapped here. You would have had nothing." Her sobbing increased into his shoulder.

_Oh Rose._

Here he'd thought that she was suffering from the horrors and fears brought about by her most recent confrontation with that horrid creature in the pit. Instead she had been worried about him. His throat felt tight, almost suffocating with such a realization. He held her a tad tighter.

"I would have made do," he whispered, although he didn't think the words sounded nearly as convincing as he would have liked. She shook her head against his chest.

"No," she said. "No, we're going to get you back. To your home universe. We can't have close calls like this again. The Doctor, he'll...h-he can find a way. He can. I can't stand the thought of you being alone," she whispered, and his heart broke just a little. "Either of you."

He appreciated the sentiment, but he knew that they were idle words. John was just starting to accept the fact that if it were possible for him to get back, then he would _be_ back by now. Two Doctors after all had tried and failed. They were empty promises, her words, but John was always so grateful for her optimistic view when he himself felt so hopeless all the time. His voice was small when he spoke, "Thank you."

They stayed hugging for an indeterminate amount of time. For a moment he closed his eyes and pretended. Pretended his whole world hadn't been lost. That the arms wrapped around his waist were not just copies of the ones he loved. He breathed in her familiar scent and let it calm his rushing emotions. His anger and worry and fear.

When they finally pulled apart she let out a small, half-choked laugh. "We're a right pair, aren't we?" she said. He smiled weakly.

"Where's the Doctor, then?" He had to force the name past his lips. Hardly did he ever use the other man's name if he could avoid it.

Her eyes shuttered away from him and she bit her lip. "We had a fight," she admitted to him quietly. His eyebrows shot up immediately at this. Lately, the Doctor and Rose had been joined at the hip, especially since that night with the wire. John had thought the Doctor was finally getting over his slight jealousy. That he was finally getting the idea and realizing that time was limited and that he needed to take ahold of it while he still had the chance. After the adventure with the beast, his own Doctor had certainly been afraid, but it had caused her to run towards him rather than away. She had been so afraid to lose him that she had seemed ready to finally let him. They had hardly went anywhere without the other and she had become much more cautious in their adventures, never letting him out of her sight. It was only when the Doctor and Rose had met up with them in their universe that John's eyes had been opened to the full effect that the beast's words had had on her. She had not been as alright as she had said she was, as he had assumed she was. She'd been terrified to lose him. She'd been ruled both by jealousy and fear when their duplicates had shown up in their universe. Was it possible that this Doctor would let this same incident rule over him? Hadn't he seen what it had turned his Doctor into?

"I'm sorry," he said, not knowing what else to say. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"He was upset," she started, voice low. "There was this, this beast...and it said something, it was...playing on fears. Said something to him. About you. And me." John felt his mouth go dry. "T-then, we got back and I...I was just worried about you. I wanted to go back and find you immediately. I was shaken up, I needed things to be normal again. I needed you both to be safe. He took it wrong. I think that he t-thinks, but it's not...He won't listen."

She was openly sobbing now and John's heart constricted. He didn't know what to say.

"He'll come to his senses," John finally said quietly, after a moment. She looked away from him at his words. "He knows. C'mon Rose, look at me," He gently held her chin in his hand, "He knows that I would never...that you would never...he knows it's just not like that. He's just scared. It's how my Doctor was when this happened with the beast. Remember? You guys showed up right after this had happened to us, yeah. She was so mean to you and she got angry over the tiniest things, just because she was so shaken up. But in the end we were okay. He's just being the daft, jealous idiot that he is, yeah? He'll see that soon enough."

He didn't realize his slip until he noticed Rose's eyes going wide. "You," she said faintly, "this...the same thing? Same adventure? It's happened to you? John, why didn't you tell me!" Her voice rose at the end of the sentence, becoming borderline hysterical. John felt his face go white.

"Rose, now wait, just calm-"

"No. Dammit! You're just as bad as him. How could you possibly keep this from me?"

"It was..the timelines...But Rose, just listen to me-"

"This is why you left isn't it?" she said, speaking over him. "You knew the Tardis would be lost. You knew everything! Both of you did and you kept it from me!"

"I'm sorry, I wanted-"

"You should have told me!"

"I couldn't," his voice rose to a shout, and he felt tears prick alarmingly in his eyes. "I couldn't tell you. And it was killing me, d'you realize how much it was killing me? The wire and the beast and I couldn't protect you even when I fucking knew what would happen to you. And after everything you've done for me since I've been here... Rose, oh god, I'm so sorry, but there was nothing I could do. There's never anything I can do!"

He stumbled blindly back into the bed and sat down heavily on it. "I'm sorry," he said again, putting his head in his hands, rubbing his temples. It was only after a moment did he feel her sit down next to him and begin running her hand soothingly up and down his back.

"No, John. You have nothing to be sorry for," she said quietly, a small measure of guilt in her tone. "I know you couldn't. I know that. I'm sorry. I'm taking this all out on you. I've just been so scared and now with this fight with the Doctor...I'm sorry, I'm sorry. None of this is your fault."

"It is though," John whispered. "Everything bad that has happened to you I could have prevented, but I didn't."

"You did the right thing, John."

"No, I didn't. But not anymore. I won't allow you to get hurt like that again. Next time, I promise I'll be there for you."

John missed his Doctor everyday, and Rose was no where near ever being a replacement for her, but he cared about Rose a great deal and if this was the closest he would ever be to his Doctor again, being in this universe with her duplicate, then he was going to make the best of it. From now on he was going to protect her with his life, John vowed to himself. Otherwise what was the purpose of him even being here? Already, since he had come here he had allowed her face to be taken by the wire, had allowed her to take on the beast and the impossible planet, and had made her endure the fear that she would never see her home world again. And he knew more than anyone what that was like. But not anymore.

Their eyes met. He wasn't sure what she saw in his. Perhaps she could see the desperation and helplessness he'd been feeling ever since he'd gotten here. Perhaps she could see how much he needed some kind of purpose, some kind of control given back to him in this universe. Perhaps she could see how much he needed to believe that by protecting her, he could also feel that in a way he was protecting his Doctor, that he was still connected to her even universes apart. But for whatever reason, for whatever she may have seen in his eyes, she nodded her consent and rested her head against his shoulder.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Sorry this one took a bit longer to get up. This week has been very busy!**

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**Chapter 6: Those Left Behind**

After the Doctor had left him behind on that game station all those years ago (or more accurately all those years in the future), Jack had been forced to rebuild his life from scratch. It was painful knowing that she'd left him behind without a second thought, and at the time Jack had thought that his life was falling apart then and there.

But he had been wrong. No, Jack's life hadn't fallen apart when she'd left him behind. Jack's life had fallen apart on Ellis Island in 1892 when he had been shot through the head and drug painfully back into life. At first he had thought the whole ordeal to be odd, but quickly he had shrugged it off. Until it happened again. And again. And again.

And _again_.

Jack finally took the hint. He was the man that could never die.

He redoubled his efforts in trying to track down the Doctor in the hopes that maybe she could fix him. Maybe she could explain what had happened to him. Maybe she could just finally say she was sorry for leaving him trapped and confused on satellite five, ankle deep in Dalek dust.

His vortex manipulator broke when he tried to go back to 21st century Earth, in the hoped of finding her again. He missed; landing centuries before then. No matter, he'd thought. Surely, at some point in time he would meet up with her again. The Doctor was _everywhere_. Even if he didn't find his version of the Doctor, he should be able to at least meet up with _a_ Doctor who might be able to give him a lift back. That hope kept him going over the next couple of years, as he lived in a time so unlike his own.

Apparently, it wasn't meant to be however because the Doctor never came.

At some point he found Torchwood, or more accurately they found him. He bid his time there, a temporary means for distraction until he could fix his vortex manipulator or track down the Doctor.

And so Jack continued to wait.

So many years, he couldn't even keep track of them anymore. Even more deaths. And a part of him became angry. So, so angry and bitter that she had just left him. Left him behind when he didn't even know what he was anymore. Always dragged breath after painful breath back into the world. Was he still human? Still Jack? What was wrong with him? Some days those thoughts threatened to consume him.

Other days were better. His team made him better. Gwen and Owen and Tosh and...Ianto.

Jack for the most part, over the years, did his best to keep himself from getting too attached. A marriage once. A child. But ultimately, he started realizing that getting too close only ever hurt everyone involved. Not that he didn't still get involved in the fun way on a continually regular basis. Those were always the times he felt most like Jack, not some impossible, immortal being. Just Jack. Still, he worked harder these days at not letting anyone get too close. The resulting heartbreak was just not worth it.

That was until Ianto began working for him.

Even right from the beginning when the other man had saved his life from that weevil, Jack couldn't deny his attraction to him. If it had only been an attraction, however, Jack would have immediately turned on the charm and found a way to get the other man into his bed then and there. No, that night something long since buried had lurched in Jack's chest and he had known that if he wasn't careful this man could end up breaking his heart.

Ianto was relentless to get a position at Torchwood three and Jack did everything in his power to drive the other man away, but to no avail. The incident with the pterodactyl had sealed the deal and Jack had known that there was nothing he could do to stop the inevitable downward spiral from there.

The Welshman, had unknowingly, made Jack break all his careful rules, got passed all his barriers and defenses. Not that the other man ever really...noticed. Actually, he was rather frustratingly oblivious to Jack's attempts at seducing him. Not something that his ego had taken lightly. Jack could seduce anyone. Why now, when it mattered, did his charm seem to fail him?

However, Jack was not one to give up easily and he figured it was only a matter of time before Ianto finally fell into his bed.

Jack had thought that, believed it with all his heart, right up until the Doctor had dropped back into his life not mere moments ago. How did she do that? Once again alter everything in his life so completely? For years he had been searching for her, practically desperate for her to come back and now that she was here, Jack couldn't help but want her gone.

The one person, the one person that had caught Jack's attention in years, that had unknowingly cracked the walls that had been steadily building around his heart, and she wanted to take him? And already Jack could see in the other man's eyes that he was spell bound by her. How was Jack to compete with that? With all of time and space and the allure of the mysterious Doctor? Beg him not to leave?

Out of everyone in the whole universe, why did it have to be him?

Jack was staring wide-eyed between the Doctor and Ianto, her offer hanging heavily in the air, threatening to suffocate Jack. The Doctor was smiling in that manic way she did, but her eyes were filled with a deep weariness. Most peculiar of all however was how every now and then she would grimace, her whole body lurching away and for a moment she would look as if she was going to be sick, before carefully masking her features again into an indifferent mask. By contrast, the stars were already in Ianto's eyes.

"Doctor," Jack said, his voice slightly strained. "Why don't we catch up a little bit first? There's no rush. I'm sure we have a lot to discuss with one another. Ianto would also probably like some time to think about your offer."

"I don't nee-"

"Right. Right," the Doctor said, speaking over Ianto, her eyes never leaving Jack's. "We do have a lot to catch up on don't we?" Her eyes cut over to Ianto, then back to Jack, the expression almost curious. She didn't miss much, the Doctor.

To say the atmosphere in the room was tense would be an understatement.

"Why don't you join me in my office, Doctor?" Jack said, voice back to its usual charm, although there was no hiding the tightness of his mouth, the way his lips sculpted into a frown.

"Brilliant! Molto bene!" She turned swiftly on her heel to start her way up the stairs to his office as if she couldn't get away fast enough and out of the corner of his eye, Jack watched Ianto take an unconscious step forward as if to follow her. Jack scowled.

"Why don't you make some coffee, Ianto, before everyone else gets here," Jack said curtly. Ianto looked just about ready to protest until he took in Jack's expression. He sighed very softly.

"Of course sir." He nodded once then walked away in the opposite direction. Jack watched him go, equal parts sad and longing, before he made to follow the Doctor.

When he entered she was already seated at his desk, feet propped up and examining the long tube-like object that Jack had been trying to classify earlier. Jack didn't miss the ways she very subtly flinched at his entrance before taking in a deep breath and sinking further into the chair.

"A Frodonain horn," she said without looking up at him. He raised an eyebrow.

"Is it?" He had been trying to figure that one out for days.

She nodded, then blew into the instrument to demonstrate. It let forth a low, pleasing sound.

"Well, damn," Jack said, unable to help himself. She laughed.

"I've missed you, Jack," she said, as if that would make up for the years of questions and deaths and misery that he had endured in her absence. Jack looked away from her and said nothing. "And if it means anything to you," she continued, "I am sorry." Her voice was sincere, but Jack was having none of it and he closed his eyes.

"4,852," he whispered, turning back to her. She blinked, uncomprehending. "Jack-" she started carefully, but he cut her off. "4,852. That's the number of times that I have died." His voice sounded tired even to him. Her eyes flitted away from him, towards the ground. He could sense her guilt like a physical presence.

"I'm sorry," was all she said and Jack had to suppress the urge to laugh. Years and Years of pent up frustration and hurt began boiling under his skin as he regarded her. Did she really think that line would work on him? That her apologies would fix everything? He couldn't have stopped the accusations from bubbling forth from his mouth if he had wanted to.

"Sorry? You're sorry? For what exactly? Which part is this apology for? Leaving me? Never looking for me? The immortality that you never explained to me? Offering Ianto a spot on the Tardis? Which part, Doctor, are you sorry for? How about John?" The name had flown off his lips before he could stop it, before he could even process what he was saying. All he wanted was to hurt her. Hurt her the way that she had hurt him, and a part of him, a twisted part, knew that mentioning John was the quickest and easiest way to do so. And he was not disappointed in this. Her reaction was immediate.

She flew at him, teeth bared as she snarled, "Don't you fucking dare bring him in to this, Jack Harkness!"

He ignored her, he couldn't stop himself as the words kept spilling out of his mouth. "What did you say happened? Trapped in a parallel world, right? Or maybe he's not even really trapped at all? Maybe you just told him that so you could leave him behind like the rest of us. Like me. Always running away instead of-"

Smack.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh rang out in the room. They stared at one another in the deafening silence that followed. Jack brought a hand up to his red cheek in disbelief. The Doctor's arm was still halfway suspended in the air toward him, her face the perfect picture of shock. Her arm dropped and she stumbled back from him, her whole body trembling with emotion. Jack opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out.

A teardrop ran down her cheek and Jack blanched at the sight of it. Never before had he seen this impossible women cry.

"You're wrong. If there was...If there was a way to get him back, I would," she said softly, breath hitching over the words. Jack felt his heart break just a little inside his chest and all the anger left his body as he gathered her up in a hug. She clung to him for a moment, burying her face in his coat, before quite suddenly pushing him off her and stumbling away as if she'd been burned, her breathing rapid. She grimaced and Jack's mouth went dry as he watched.

"Doctor?"

She said nothing.

"I didn't mean what I said," Jack tried. "I'm sorry, sweetheart." Any other time, she probably would have glared at him or warningly said 'Jack' at his use of an endearment, but now all she did was let loose another sob where she was huddled in the corner. "I know you would get him back. I know. _He_ knows."

That seemed to be what she needed to hear, because she began calming down slightly and in an uncharacteristically small voice asked, "Do you think so?"

"Absolutely," Jack said adamantly. "That man was so in love with you that you could have told him the sky was purple and he would have believed you."

She stopped breathing at his words and for a second he thought he might've gone too far before she commented lightly, "On Zerius 6 the sky is purple."

Jack laughed. "Fine. You could have told him that I had decided to become a celibate monk and I have no doubt he would have taken your word for it."

The Doctor laughed in response, a full-hearted laugh and gave him a hesitant smile. "Well now, don't you think that might be stretching it just a teensy bit?"

Jack grimaced in an exaggerated manner. "You're right. I think I ogled his bum one too many times for him to ever buy it."

The Doctor's smile widened. "I really have missed you, Jack." She took a careful measured step towards him.

He'd missed her too. For years, he'd missed her. For years he'd worried about how she was doing. But for years he'd also harbored a deep anger for what she had done. For years his bitterness had grown. It was hard to erase those pent up frustrations with one little joke.

"Why?" Jack whispered, voice cracking over the syllable. "Just tell me why."

"It's not so simple, Jack."

"You owe me an explanation. What happened? The last thing I remember is being surrounded by Daleks. They killed me. I know they did. But then I woke up and...you and John were gone. Just the dust of Daleks everywhere." Jack shook his head as the painful memories resurfaced.

When the Doctor looked back towards him her face held resignation and weariness. "Things were looking bad Jack. There wasn't...I was running out of option, you remember."

"Yeah, you sent John home."

"I did, but he came back, Jack. He ripped open the heart of the Tardis and flew her back. He saved me," she said, her voice thick. "But all that power in his head, it was killing him. No one's meant to have that kind of power. If a Time Lord or Lady did they'd become like a god. But not John. Everything he did was so human. I took it from him and put it back in it's proper place. About killed me, too. Glad it didn't."

"Then you just left."

The Doctor closed her eyes as she answered. "There's something else, Jack. When John still had the vortex running through his head...you had died, but he brought you back. It's just...He couldn't control it. He brought you back forever. I guess that's something though, isn't it," the Doctor said with a rueful smile, "the last act of the Time War was to bring life."

Jack swallowed hard. "Can you...can you fix me?"

The Doctor's expression turned anguished and she met his eyes and shook her head, mouthing "No," to him. Jack nodded, expecting it, but still unable to help himself from being disappointed.

"You're a fixed point now, Jack. That's why I left. It was...instinct for me. You're wrong. Even just being around you is a bit nauseating to my time sense."

It was like a lightbulb had been flicked on over his head. All her reactions, the way she looked almost sickly pale standing in front of him now, maintaing a careful distance. It all made sense. Jack didn't know what to say.

"I've been building my tolerance ever since I got here. The longer I'm around you the better it is," she assured him. "Still doesn't mean I don't feel it. Plus, I've had nine hundred years to control my outward reaction to any stimuli." She gave him a wry smile.

Jack snorted. "I'll say. I remember traveling with you and John for those few weeks. Could cut the sexual tension with a knife, not that anything ever happened, much to my disappointment I assure you." The Doctor said nothing, her gaze falling away towards her shoes. The atmosphere in the room became vaguely uncomfortable.

Jack gave an awkward chuckle and then quickly changed the subject. Lightly he said, "So that's it then. You left me because you couldn't stand to be around me?"

"Like I said, Jack. Instinct. I had to go." She shrugged at him helplessly.

"And you never came to find me after. Never gave me a second thought?"

"Of course I thought about you, but things were...I thought I was going to regenerate. A second longer and I probably would've. And John..." she trailed off biting her lip, gaze flitting away from his own.

Jack nodded in understanding. "I know," he whispered. "It's always been you and him, hasn't it?" His voice, surprisingly, did not come out as bitter as he had expected. It was the truth after all.

"Not any longer." Her voice was so quiet he almost didn't catch it.

Jack wanted to ask further about what had happened to John. He knew the gist of it at this point, but there seemed to be more there than what she was letting on. But every time so far that John was brought up she got so sad and closed off again. It would be best for now, he decided, if he left her be. John was safe, she had said, and that eased his mind considerably. There were other matters to discuss in the meantime.

"So," Jack said, "going to be taking one of my team members then?" He was going for light again, but it came out much harder than he had intended.

The Doctor looked up, eyes widening almost imperceptibly, and bit her lip. "Weell, if he wants. He did well, the other day on the moon. Saved my life. The least I can do is offer him a few trips."

Jack nodded tightly.

"Jack," she started hesitatingly, "is...are you all right with that?"

"Fine."

She shook her head, taking a step towards him and forcing him to meet her gaze. "No, you're not."

He shrugged.

"Jack, talk to me."

"What? Like you do? It's not like you ever say anything that matters, so why should I?"

"Jack..."

"No, Doctor you don't get to keep all these secrets and then act like I have to spill all of mine to you. It doesn't work that way."

"I won't take him if it bothers you." She ran her hand through her hair. "You know how dangerous my life is, Jack and I told myself I wan't going to travel with anyone again, not after...But, well it's lonely and I just..."

"You need someone with you."

"Yeah. But, I won't do this at your expense Jack. It's up to you."

Jack turned away from her, his voice coming out slightly thick, "No, Ianto deserves to see the stars if he wants to. And I can already tell he does." Jack's shoulders slumped little.

"You could always come too," she offered softly after a moment. "Plenty of room on the Tardis. I'd love it if you came."

"No, my place is here now, Doctor. I have a team to look out for. I can't leave them. Just...promise me one thing."

"Anything."

He met her eyes, and shining through them were sympathy and an overwhelming amount of understanding. This was the one person in all of space and time who could possibly understand how he felt, the misery of always outliving the ones you love; Of not getting too close in the hopes of avoiding later heartache. He supposed he didn't even have to keep what was wrong from her, because she already knew anyway.

"Just keep him safe."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I'm going to bump this story's rating up to M, because of this chapter. The scene I'm referring to which comes near the end of the chapter after the second cut, is not very graphic, but still might warrant, a slight, very slight dub-con WARNING. If anyone has _any_ concerns with this, or does not feel that proper warnings have been given for this chapter please, please do not hesitate to PM me. Thank you!**

* * *

**Chapter 7: Desperate Measures**

The events of Krop Tor marked a dramatic, if unsurprising shift in the Doctor. He shut down. Barriers, which had slowly been crumbling down were built back up in an all too familiar manner. The Time Lord drew into himself, hiding behind a mask of forced exuberance and long winded rambles that went no where, least of all to topics that needed discussing, and as a result, tensions were running high on the Tardis.

Rose wouldn't tell John exactly what had happened on that impossible planet. He had a good idea from his own experience and what little she'd told him, but she still refused to talk anymore about the fight between her and the Doctor. John didn't push her, but he couldn't stop the feeling that she was deliberately keeping it from him for some reason. He knew of course that he had factored somewhere into their fight, that the wrong assumptions had been drawn, but as for the specifics he had no clue. Perhaps Rose wouldn't tell him because she didn't want him blaming himself for what had happened between them anymore than he already was. She really should know that it was far too late for that.

A part of John wanted to just confront the other man. Fix whatever had broke between the two of them. As much as he feared the idea of watching them be so blatantly in love with one another on the Tardis, he feared even more the idea that the Doctor would push Rose away forever. She didn't deserve such a thing and he couldn't help but feel that this whole mess was his fault. If he had just warned them about what was coming, maybe this all could have been prevented. The guilt of it was nearly overwhelming him. Yet, he couldn't seem to get the other man to sit still long enough to talk to him. It was abundantly clear that the Time Lord had no desire to see or even acknowledge John any more. It had been surprising at first. John had thought everything had been looking up between them, of late. But apparently in light of the beast's words, John was once again the Time Lord's unwanted passenger. It quickly began reflecting in John's outlook as things got worse and worse between them all. It felt like a prison cell, this other universe. And as distractions from the crippling sorrow that seemed to follow him everywhere became more and more scarce, John became exceedingly home sick.

Rose, herself, seemed to be on edge about the whole ordeal, equal parts upset and angry, flip flopping between the two emotions with regularity, and John didn't blame her one bit. The Doctor didn't exactly ignore her, but he treated her with much more detachment. The hand holding had stopped. The hugging. The teasing and flirting. Often the Doctor would leave them both to go and take care of things on some planet, himself, despite Rose's insistence that she be allowed to come with him. And anytime he could force them all to split up it was always him and Rose pushed together now, while the Doctor went to save the latest civilization. On top of that, once they were back from any adventure, the other man immediately closed himself off in his room.

John had never experienced anything quite to this degree with his own Doctor and he had no idea what to do to make it any better. Sure, the occasional adventure could rattle her, make her remember how short human's lives were and promptly cause her to pull away from him, but she always seemed to snap out of it sooner or later. The brown-haired man, however, seemed completely set on keeping a careful distance from Rose this time.

Had it all just become too much for him, John wondered? The beast's words and the constant reminder that John, himself, presented that things couldn't ever work out in a happy ending for them?

John felt helpless to do anything. His thoughts began spiraling out of control as he began missing the simplicity of the days with his own Doctor. Traveling the universe with his best friend. Saving the world. Now it all just felt like a distant dream, that life, and his heart felt terribly heavy with the weight of all he had lost.

It still got no less easy being trapped from her.

* * *

They landed on a beautiful planet, one filled with parks and strange blue-skinned lizard-like creatures that made a sort of hissing sound when they talked. There were fields of burgundy grass and tall spindly trees adorned with pale bark and golden leaves that the odd creatures would periodically stop to stare up at in something akin to reverence. Cobblestone streets brimming with market life and small cottages made up a majority of the civilization, the clicking of the creatures talons along the stone filling the air with a surprisingly pleasing sound.

They were here for a Tardis part according to the Doctor. John however had had no difficulty translating this to mean that the Doctor was looking for more distractions and reasons to go off on his own. This was only more evidenced by the way he scampered off quickly the second they'd landed, ignoring Rose's hurt look when he told her he didn't need help and that he'd be back later. John, knowing nothing else to do, gently guided her along with promises to go take a walk in one of the parks that they could see off in the distance. She followed him resignedly.

"This is the third time in a row, you know," Rose said, as they ambled along the stone path, their trainers slapping the stone and adding to the rhythm that the species here created with their own steps. "There was the first time on that planet with the giraffe-looking people, he was off to find _another_ Tardis part. Then the next planet he didn't even tell us what he was looking for, he was gone before we could even ask. And then back on that last planet with that really good silver fruit, he took off then too and told us _specifically_ to stay together and I have a feeling the whole Festival of Love nonsense that was going on was not merely a coincidence." Rose's face scrunched up in distaste at this and John couldn't help mimicking her expression as he recalled the cheesy proceedings. "I don't know, but it feels a bit like he's trying to push us together?" Rose continued, her voice holding defeat. "Does he honestly think something like that's going to happen?"

"I don't know why I'm so surprised by his behavior." John sighed, nodding as he offered her his arm. "This was exactly the same attitude my Doctor took after you both showed up in our world. She said she couldn't help thinking the universe messed up somehow, that if only it had put us together on the same world that things would have been right, or something. Both of us being so conveniently human, right?" John shook his head. "I had to get it through her head that it had always been just her." John looked somewhat uncomfortably at the ground once he was finished. He hadn't talked so openly about his relationship with the Doctor in awhile and as always just thinking about her brought an ache to his chest.

"It's just never been this bad before. Not even with Reinette and I honestly thought that was the lowest we could go. I knew he could get jealous, but this is just silly. I mean we've gotten close I guess, me and you, but can he honestly not see that I-" She didn't finish her sentence, but she didn't need to. "I just wish he would stop shoving me off like I want some life with a normal human block and a white picket fence and 2.5 kids and, oh, look this one even conveniently looks the same..." she trailed off. "Not that you aren't great!" she said hurriedly. "But...you know?"

"I do," John assured her, as they stopped under one of the wiry trees, the golden leaves swinging lazily in the breeze. Rose reached out to pluck one off and hold it curiously in front of her face.

"It's weird not getting the full history of the planet," she mused, steering the conversation effortlessly to lighter topics more befitting of such a lovely day. "I don't even think he told us the name of this one before he was off like the hounds of hell were at his feet."

A sudden gasp behind them had them both spinning around, their backs coming up straighter as they were faced with one of the natives. He (or she, as it was quite difficult to distinguish between genders), was quivering before them, one hand held in front of his (or her) mouth and the other pointing at them in astonishment. Both John and Rose were immediately on guard, Rose going so far as to take a tentative step forward to try and comfort the creature, who fell back away from her immediately, stumbling to keep distance between them. His (or her) violent reaction was causing quite the stir as more of the lizard-creatures began hissing loudly and pointing in their direction with narrowed faces that bellied their rage. Rose shrunk back just a tad at the display, all of them seeming to be pointing at her.

"What are they looking at me like that for?" Rose demanded. John got a familiar swooping feeling in his stomach when he noticed the arrival of two more of the creatures who were quickly approaching them in what John gathered was a decidedly not friendly manner.

"I think we better run."

It turned out that the trees on Fernerian Delta X Four were sacred and even just touching them was a capital offense. Not that the Doctor ever warned them as much. It didn't take long for the two of them to find themselves over taken by the much quicker and stronger lizard creatures and put into jail to await trial (and from what they had gathered, guilty verdicts were met with an immediate death sentence). The cell was highly secured, with multiple guards posted out front, and both of them were rapidly running out of ideas.

It took almost three hours for the Doctor to finally bust them out later that night, his face absolutely murderous. It was unsurprising to John when their journey back to the Tardis was filled with shouting.

"Rule number one! What is rule number one!?"

"Nah-huh, you don't get to use that bull-shit on me! Not this time! And S'not like you didn't bloody wander off first! What did you expect us to do? Sit there and twiddle our thumbs and await your return like good little companions? How long should we have waited, huh? Five and a half hours perhaps?" Rose was livid, matching the Doctor shout for shout as they sprinted along. John trailed awkwardly behind the fighting pair, hoping to remain well out of the conversation.

The Doctor spluttered, head reeling as if she'd slapped him. "Well, why did you have to go and pluck the leaf off of that tree for anyways? It's not like I didn't warn you-"

"No, you didn't bloody well warn us! You're too busy putting all your effort into pushing me away again! The second we got here you were gone. Left us to fend for ourselves on an alien planet. Of course we didn't know not to touch the bloody trees!" By this point they had made it back to the Tardis and Rose, with shaking hands, turned her key in the lock and fled into the depths of the blue box before the Doctor could get another word in.

The Doctor looked stricken, his mouth opening and closing a few time before he finally snapped it shut and smoothed out his features. He turned to John. Quietly he said, "Why don't you go and try to calm her down?"

John snorted. He could think of a bloody _list_ of things he would rather do, like boil himself in hot water and maybe make a nice John Smith soup. He was not going to start playing peacekeeper between them. Especially not when he knew this other man's game. "Not bloody likely, mate. You botched this one up pretty nicely yourself. I'd say your in charge of clean up. I can pretty much assure you I'm on Rose's side here."

With that John made his own exit from the console room.

* * *

Angry words were being hurled left and right somewhere down one of the halls, and it was this that led John to the library, hoping to get a bit of a break from all the madness that was the Doctor and Rose and their near constant fighting. Maybe even a break from his own depressing thoughts that seemed to be becoming much more relentless as the hours passed.

The soft plush couch was welcoming, the fireplace was already burning and a book he had taken to reading was already set out on the table. He sighed in relief as he quickly lost himself in the story.

His brief reprieve from the real world didn't last long.

The door was thrown open with a bang. John jumped slightly at the sound, startled. Rose was standing there, silhouetted in the frame, her whole body shaking in what looked to be equal parts rage and grief.

"That bloody wanker," she growled as she made her way into the room, slamming the door behind her as she entered. While her face and body language held a fury that even surprised John, but what really threw him off was the indecipherable look in her eyes. They held sort of a gleamy, foggy sheen, the likes of which were sending of warning bells in his head.

"I am so sick of his bloody mood swings. You know just the other day we were sharing a bloody bed and he was being all lovely with me and the next he can't even bear to acknowledge my existence. And then today..." her voice trailed off as hurt filled her eyes. She shook her head as if banishing the painful memory.

John frowned and felt another wave of guilt. He couldn't help, but feel that his was all still partially his fault, odd look in her eye beside. "I'm sorry, Rose. If there was something I could-_Oh_!"

Rose was quite suddenly straddling him.

"There is something you can do." Her voice took on a new quality, the hurt and anger replaced by something low and deadly. "If this is what he wants, then dammit, he'll get it," she growled. John dropped his book.

"Rose," he squeaked. "What the hell?"

She shook her head, her hair forming a curtain around his face she was so close. John looked into her eyes, trying to figure out what in the world was going on and he startled violently when he saw the light brown irises flash a vibrant silver around the edges.

"Rose!" he exclaimed again in his perplexity.

In response her hands raised to grip the oxford he was wearing tightly. "No, not Rose. Right now, we are going to _pretend_."

Her mouth was on his before he even had time to process her words. All thoughts of the strange occurrence of her eyes flying right out the window as he flailed for a moment underneath her assault, his brain short-circuiting at both the feel of her, oh, so achingly familiar lips and the absolutely insane idea she was proposing.

Even as his mind started conjuring up the hundreds, no thousands, of reasons that this was a terrible idea, his body had already started to respond to her touch. He was closing his eyes and kissing her back before he had even given himself permission to. His arms encircling her body, roaming the curves hungrily. Everything was so painfully familiar, the way her mouth was moving on his, the way she felt in his embrace. John was already so lost, as his body and mind began eagerly accepting what she was offering. He could find no difference, any longer, as he began devouring her with his mouth. This was the Doctor on top of him. The Doctor kissing the life out of him. The Doctor running her hand through his hair like he had spent years only ever dreaming of, imagining, _fantasizing_. It was everything he had spent the last few months longing for; her touch. He wanted it to be real so badly that it was.

There was no room for the guilt of what they were about to do to even enter his mind. He was too far gone, too drunk on her kisses, too drunk on the prospect of just for this one night being able to have the Doctor back. The opportunity, the chance, was too intoxicating not to take.

Oh, later he knew he would feel absolutely terrible. He was practically taking advantage of Rose. She was angry and upset, doing this only as a means to get back at her Doctor. He knew she would regret it immensely and really he should be a gentleman and stop her. If he had any willpower whatsoever he would.

Instead he was pushing her back on the couch so he could lay himself on top of her. She was so soft underneath him. So pliant, just like he'd imagined she would be. One of his hands found its way into her hair, caressing the stands through his fingers. His mouth was relentless on hers and his hips pressed forward of their own accord seeking friction. He was filled with her scent, her feel. He couldn't get enough of her. _His Doctor._ Oh, how many times had he imagined this?

She was making needy noises underneath him, moaning and writhing, and the sounds went straight to his groin. He wanted, no, _needed_ more of her. "Doctor," he breathed out harshly as his hands roamed up under her shirt, encountering skin. His lips began moving down the column of her neck, licking and sucking at the tender skin.

"Don't," she panted, startling him. "N-no names, you'll, _oh_, ruin it."

It took a moment for his brain to register what she was talking about. And once he had, for a brief moment horror crossed his mind. What the hell was he doing? What the hell were they doing? This was...this was...She tugged on his hair, encouraging his lips back to hers and any thoughts of how wrong this was flew right back out the window. God, for once he wasn't going to be smart or sensible. He wasn't going to think about the consequences. He needed her like the air in his lungs and the fact that he had been without her for so long, for what felt like the forever she had always said they would never get, made him a desperate man.

He groaned in her mouth as her tongue deftly stroked his. She was a fantastic kisser, but he had already known that. He wasn't likely to forget the only other time he had had the chance to kiss her and now, finally, all the stares and longing and sexual tension was rising to its final boiling point. For so long he had wanted her so badly, and being able to finally act on it was nothing short of heavenly.

Her hands were everywhere at once, stroking his jaw, his sides, winding around his back then moving to tug on his hair. He couldn't help the whimpers that escaped him.

She was warmth and heat when he finally entered her, and if he hadn't been so caught up in the feeling, he might've been disconcerted by it. He had always before, imagined that she would be slightly cooler, just like her skin. There was no time for those thoughts however as he began to move. His world shrunk as he focused on her, the pleasurable sounds she was making and the pleas of yes and more that were escaping her lips. He almost shattered when she panted in his ear, _wanted you...for so long wanted you._

She came with a cry around him and he followed shortly after, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. "I love you."

Right when the words had escaped him, his mind flashed back automatically to that frozen beach, her sad eyes, and her "Quite right, too," and John felt like he was drowning, suffocating as the memory, one that was burned forever in his mind, played out behind closed eyelids. Reality began sinking back in with the memory and John made a choked sound as he realized what they had just done. Rose's face looked equally stricken, no doubt from his words. He rolled off her quickly and onto the floor, wishing it would just swallow him up.

They looked at one another, wide-eyed and unmoving as the weight of their actions crashed helplessly into them. There was nothing, either of them could say that would ever make this right.

John had allowed desperateness to over take him. His misery and confusion from being trapped here. His guilt and frustration at Rose and the Doctor's constant fighting these last few weeks when _at least_ they were together. What would his Doctor think, he thought with despair, if she knew how weak and helpless he was now, how completely unworthy for her that he was? John felt he might be sick to his stomach. He was pathetic, absolutely pathetic.

"I-" no words were forthcoming and he felt the knot in his throat tighten to the point of suffocation. A tear ran down Rose's face (because of course this was Rose here, not some means to a fantasy that he could use whenever he felt he had become miserable enough to deserve it), and John fled.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hello everyone, I apologize for the lateness of getting this chapter up. Things got unexpectedly busy in real life. Anyway, onwards.**

* * *

**Chapter 8: Steps**

"Well then? What d'you think?" the Doctor asked, smiling widely as she gestured to the domed-room of the Tardis.

Ianto looked around, his eyes wide with amazement and his jaw partially dropped. "Jack's stories don't do it justice," he admitted, awe still dripping from his words. The Doctor preened.

"Oh, I know! Isn't she just beautiful!" The Doctor spun around the center column, pushing buttons to start the dematerialization process. She laughed a little gleefully as she did so. Ianto watched her in half amusement, half wonder.

"She?"

"Of course! The Tardis is alive. Sentient." As if to prove this point the Tardis's doors swung shut on their own accord. Ianto whirled around at the sound, surprise and giddiness filling him.

"That's amazing!"

"That's not all she can do," the Doctor said with pride, excited for the chance to show off. She had been traveling alone for so long now that it felt good to have someone onboard again. The Tardis engines practically purred as the Doctor started her up. "Hang on tight, Ianto Jones!"

Before she could pull down the lever to send them off into their first adventure, however the door swung open harshly, eliciting an angry beep from said sentient Tardis, and an out of breath Jack came rushing in. The Doctor looked on in surprise and even a little bit of delight. "Jack! Change your mind about coming along?" she questioned, but Jack wasn't looking at her, his eyes were set on the young man that she was about to steal away.

"Jack," Ianto asked confused, shifting under his intense gaze. "What are you-"

"This," Jack whispered, cutting him off by cupping his jaw and bringing their mouths forcefully together. The Doctor's eyes widened.

It was brief for Jack's standards, and he pulled away before the Doctor could even tell if the move had been reciprocated or not. He smiled charmingly when he released Ianto, in sharp contrast with the other man's dumbstruck expression.

"W-what...what was that!" he stuttered out. Jack just winked.

"Incentive to come back. Plus, I wasn't about to let you leave when you're the only one on the team I haven't had the chance to kiss yet." Jack's expression was light and teasing, but the Doctor couldn't help but notice the tense set of his shoulders and the nervousness and emotion that were radiating off him just beneath the surface of his undeniable charm. Her heart ached just a little for him, and once again she felt guilty about taking Ianto away when he was so obviously important to her friend.

She opened her mouth to say something, to offer him a spot on the Tardis again..._anything,_ but closed it just as quickly when she caught sight of them staring at one another.

Ianto's face was beet red and he glanced from her to Jack back to her and once more to Jack, before bringing his hands up to touch his lips in disbelief. "I-incentive." The word came out a bit wobbly. Then he seemed to steel himself to say, almost a little teasingly, almost as if he was looking to get control back over the situation, "Are you saying you're going to miss me, sir?"

"Oh, absolutely!" Jack said, the words coming out confident and mischievous, but with what the Doctor could also detect as a hint of honest sincerity.

Jack pulled Ianto to him for a tight hug before pulling back and saying, "You be careful now. I want you back in one piece. Tight suit and all, you hear." Ianto smiled a little.

"Yes, sir."

Jack clapped him on the shoulder before turning to her with a charming grin.

"Would you like a goodbye as well, Doctor?" His eyes twinkled at her and she smiled stepping into his arms and hugging him tightly.

"We'll see you soon, Jack," she whispered in his ear. She felt his head nod above her before they parted. He smiled one last time, cupped her cheek and placed a chaste and delicate kiss on her lips, a kiss that mirrored the one he had given her so long ago on a space station billions of years in the future. When he pulled away he quickly spun around, his coattails flapping dramatically behind him as he exited the Tardis.

Once he was gone, she turned to get a good look at Ianto's still slightly stricken face. The Doctor had sensed Jack had feeling for her newest member, although, she had not been able to tell at the time if those feeling were reciprocated. Now looking at the shock and almost sheepish embarrassment that played across the young man's face, she knew he had been unaware. Probably was still unaware, as Jack could hide himself behind a wall of charm just about as well as she could.

"He seems to be rather fond of you," she said casually, delicately flicking a knob upward and looking at him with a teasing tongue-touched smile. He swallowed, met her gaze, and said a little hoarsely, "Oh, no he's like that with everyone."

She shrugged. "If you say so, but I've known Jack Harkness for a long time and trust me when I say that that kiss would have been much too graphic to be going on in my Tardis if he was like he is with everyone, with you."

"Are you saying...that kissing doesn't go on...here," he asked, almost shyly, his face still a tad flushed as he carefully met her eyes. She blinked in surprise at the forwardness of the comment, and opened and closed her mouth a few times, looking for the right thing to say. _No I don't really do that, except for when I break the rules for one stupid, brilliant, human who managed to break past all my careful defenses to make me fall in love with him and even then it took almost a year for us to even get past the hand-holding stage, and yeah in the end he was taken away from me anyway so now I've definitely learnt my lesson._

Instead, she skillfully ignored the question. "Before we leave Ianto...Are you sure you don't want to stay? With your team? With Jack?" She gave him a rather pointed look that said she knew exactly what she was insinuating. Ianto looked surprised by her words.

"Oh! Yes! Of course I'm sure! Jack and I aren't...He doesn't...I don't...I mean, uh, no, no. I want...to be with you. I m-mean I want to travel with you. S-see the stars and all." His face was completely flustered and it was a bit shocking as this man always seemed to keep such perfect control of himself. Always so calm and smooth. So why was he-

_Oh no_, the Doctor inwardly groaned. How had she, after such a brief meeting, already managed to capture this man's affections? It wasn't like she had done anything to encourage him...or, well, except for that kiss, perhaps. But she had told him at the time explicitly that the kiss was merely a genetic transfer. She had been trying to save the world!

Right then, time to do what she did best and remain completely oblivious to his overtures. "Well, then!" she said brightly. "Seeing the stars is a bit of a specialty of mine, so you've come to the right place!" She pulled down the lever, sending them into the vortex with the familiar wheezing sound of the Tardis's engines in the background.

"First things first then. The grande tour! Follow me and we can find a bedroom you can use during your stay." She made her way down a corridor and he dutifully followed closely behind her.

"Wow, this place is even bigger! How does it all fit inside the little blue box?"

"This inside part exist in a slightly different dimension than the outside. It's all a matter of relativity, you see."

"It's incredible."

"That it is. Now c'mon. Time to find you a room." She pushed open the closest door, knowing the Tardis would immediately fit it accordingly, only to stop dead in her tracks at the sight before her.

"Oh, is this for me. It's lovely!" Ianto said as he moved further into the room, oblivious to the Doctor's ashen expression.

"No! No, this isn't...this is supposed to be in storage!" The Doctor stumbled backwards, the pain in her chest as fresh as ever. "What are you playing at, old girl?"

At this, Ianto looked at her confusedly.

"Are you talking to me?"

"No, no. The Tardis. Remember, she's sentient." The Doctor glared at the wall. "And this room is supposed to be in storage," her voice rose with anger as she grabbed Ianto roughly by the arm to pull him out of the room.

He looked at her, slightly frightened and wide-eyed.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly, placatingly, his hands held up in front of him and his expression a perfect semblance of confusion at her reaction. She sighed, as the smallest tendrils of guilt curled around her right heart.

"No, I'm sorry. Not your fault." Her voice was soft, kind again, but also infinitely more sad.

Ianto studied her before asking, "Whose room is that?"

"Whose room _was_ that."

"Sorry?"

"I think you mean, 'Whose room was that?' He isn't on the Tardis anymore. Obviously." Her tone was bitter.

"...Right, right," Ianto said, looking at the ground.

The Doctor was fully intent on leaving it there. Ignoring the question altogether as she usually did. However _his_ voice came back to her, thoughts falling rapidly into memories better off buried:

_I'm just the latest in a long line?_

_You just leave us behind. Is that what you're going to do to me?_

_You've never even mentioned any of them. Why not?_

Swallowing audibly and with her hands trembling just slightly, she found her mouth opening on it's own accord as the memories pelted her. "John. That's, umm, that was his room. When he was here." Her mouth felt terribly dry at the confession and both her hearts started beating rapidly in her chest. Ianto's face was sympathetic.

"The man from the photo." he said, softly, somehow sensing the tenuous nature of the conversation.

"Yes, him. Anyway," she said abruptly as she closed the door firmly and sent a silent message to the Tardis to actually put it in storage. The room vanished almost immediately and a feeling of accomplishment ran through the old girl. The Doctor frowned, feeling as if she had been slightly played.

She looked to Ianto, who seemed to be pondering something deeply. Bravely, he met her eyes and asked, "Were you and he...?"

The Doctor blanched at the question. "I-" she choked, unable to get any words out past the lump in her throat.

"Oh, oh I'm sorry," Ianto said, sensing her unease. "I didn't mean to intrude. I shouldn't have-"

"Right," she breathed out over him, trying to regain some semblance of control over the conversation. "How about you go find a room now. For real. The next door you find should do." She flicked a piece of hair out of her face if only for something to do with her still trembling hands. She didn't do this. She didn't talk about the past. Why the hell was she starting now? Why was she letting what John said to her outside that chippy all those months ago get to her?

"Yeah, yeah. Okay," Ianto agreed quickly, nodding his head up and down.

"Good. Good. I'll just allow you time to get settled then. When your ready for a trip just meet me in the console room. The Tardis should help you find it."

"Doctor?" he said as she began to turn to walk down the hallway on feet that were itching to get away. She reluctantly turned back around to look at him and he smiled a soft, shy smile. She lifted her eyebrows appraisingly.

"Thank you." Despite the flight instinct coursing through her body, she felt her lips quirk up in response just before she swiftly began walking towards the console room.

As she wandered back down the softly lit, glowing hallways, her hand absently trailing along the walls to heighten her connection with the Tardis and bask in the comfort the old girl provided, she began pondering where she would take him, if only as a means to distract herself from her other tumultuous thoughts. The first trip was always one of her favorites with a new companion, setting the stage for how their future travels would go, and she always looked forward to relishing in that first look of amazement that crossed their faces as they beheld a whole new world that they could have only ever imagined. Usually she was just as excited as they were. She loved the chance to see the universe through the eyes of ones so much more innocent than herself; basked in the way that they brought new life to a world that she may have seen a hundred times. It was a wonderful feeling, the one that swelled in her chest when she got to share the universe with someone. However she still couldn't banish the slight melancholy feeling that was beginning to settle unrelentingly in her limbs despite all this.

Would she even be able to look at the universe in the same way again without being able to look at it through _his_ eyes? So far the answer had been a resounding _no_ and it troubled her greatly that she had relied on him so much that even now the simple joy of traveling the stars, seeing hundreds of world and galaxies, was not the same because he was not by her side to witness it with her. She had lost plenty of companions in the past, but none had become almost as essential to her as air in the way John had. Why couldn't she seem to move on like she desperately wanted to? Like the hundreds of times she had before?

The Tardis hummed comfortingly in her mind at her thoughts and she closed her eyes for a moment to enjoy the warmth and love the old girl was sending her. When she finally entered the console room with it's beautifully arching coral, the warm glow and the pulsing central column, she quickly made her way over to lovingly caress the controls. She would always have the Tardis at least, her beautiful, brilliant ship. She began setting coordinates with much more care and tenderness than usual, deciding on a whim to set them to random and allow her oldest friend the final choice.

This was a step in the right direction, she knew: traveling once more with a companion. Even if at the moment it seemed impossible to enjoy fresh new worlds without John. This would help to get her life back on track, and hopefully over time the ache in her chest would lessen. This was a new companion, and thus a new start.

She would allow him to travel with her and be grateful for the distraction and companionship and the differences that he would bring onboard the Tardis, ones that she was hoping would help her to finally move on. She had never had a companion like John before, had never allowed a companion to get so close before, and now that she knew just how painful that could be, the Doctor knew that she would never allow something like that to happen again. She would go back to how it used to be with her companions, the careful distance and rules. Ianto would be just another companion, a friend to pass the time with before he leaved her like they all did. Then she would go on to find a new one, as she had always done.

Lost in her thoughts as she was, she didn't notice Ianto shuffle into the console room. When he cleared his throat, she jumped and turned around to meet his gaze. He was still dressed in his suit and was smiling at her in that shy and excited manner.

"You're going to go out in your suit?"

He self-consciously looked down, biting his lip as he took in her words. "Should I...change?"

"I just wouldn't want it to get dirty. It looks expensive."

"John was wearing a suit...in that picture." As soon as he had rushed out the words his face immediately dissolved into uncertainty, peering up at her and wondering if he maybe should have avoided bringing up John again. And while bringing him up did hurt, she couldn't help the little snort that left her either.

"John's suit was much more rumpled and battered than yours is."

"Is there a high chance that it's going to get messy? Where we're going?"

She shrugged. "Statistically at least half of the planets I've landed on have ended up with my companion and I covered in some questionable substance."

Ianto laughed. "Jack always did say that you were a bit of a magnet for trouble."

"Yup! That's me. Danger and trouble at every turn." Her eyes glinted as she leveled him off with a challenging stare. "You sure you can handle it, Ianto Jones?"

His eyes sparkled back at her in excitement as he immediately rose up to her challenge responding, "Let me go change into my casual suit."

As she watched him leave she couldn't help the small smile that crossed her features. "How'd I manage to pick another boy who's obsessed with wearing suits all the time?" she wondered to herself.

When he reentered, she couldn't really tell much of a difference between this new suit and his old one which prompted a long-winded speech from him about fabric quality and brands, one that would have put a tailor to shame. He reminded her so much of John in that moment, passionately rambling on about something, that she had had to busy herself fully in guiding the Tardis through her flight so that he would not see her slightly wistful and grief-ridden expression. This extra focus resulted in one of her more soft landings and with a semi-forced smile she exuberantly grabbed his hand (thankfully interrupting him in the process) and pulled him out the doors and just like that right out into his first adventure.

* * *

Later that night, with Ianto sound asleep in his new room, the Doctor padded quietly down the corridor, biting her lip. She'd thought about doing this before, on multiple occasions, when the grief of his absence was nearly overwhelming her, crushing her down under it's relentless weight, but somehow she'd always resisted. Had always resisted because she knew if she did this now, she would do it again. And again. Then it would become a habit and then she would never be able to move on from him like she needed to.

Her resolve had always been strong before, but now it felt tattered to shreds; the temptation too strong. Just once, she promised herself. She would do this just once. It would be closure. She had Ianto now and after this she would finally be able to fully move on. This thought kept her feet moving down the hallway, even if a part of herself knew it wouldn't be so easy and that she would most undoubtedly be opening the floodgates if she did this.

The Tardis gave a sad, quiet hum at her request and then immediately she saw his door appear in the corridor, a few feet away. She took in a shuddering breath and opened it.

She'd only gotten a quick glimpse of it before back with Ianto, and the only other time she'd been in here since she'd lost him was to set his jacket on his bed.

And there it was, folded neatly right smack dab in the center where she had left it. Everything else in his room was cluttered, but clean. Bits and bobs he'd picked up during their travels haphazardly covered the various surfaces, but otherwise the floor was picked up and the bed made (as it always was) and his laundry tucked unseen into a corner of his closet.

A journal laid on the night stand (John always insisted it was a _log_, and that it was all very scientific), and she knew it kept a record of their travels, the various planets they'd visited and so on. He'd told her as much when she'd asked about it, but she'd never read it and despite the curiosity, the need burning in her veins to read it now, to feel closer to him through his messy handwriting on the page and the detailed accounts of their adventures, of happier times when they were together, she had always left the little book untouched. It felt too much like an invasion of his privacy.

The temptation was stronger than ever however and she turned away, tamping down the impulse, even as her hands twitched towards it. She had to close her eyes tightly, will herself not to grab it and pour over the words. It was not why she was here.

But when she opened her eyes again, it was like a sudden vacuum had descended on her, all the sound, even the insistent buzzing sound of silence was stripped completely, dizzyingly from the room and her vision felt oddly sharper and time seemed to slow as her eyes focused. She spun around, confused and then her eyes went impossibly wide and her mouth dropped open in complete in utter shock when she came face to face with John, sitting on his bed, just as see through as a ghost as he'd been on Bad Wolf Bay.

She blinked rapidly, shaking her head, knowing that her mind just had to be playing tricks on her, that this wasn't real. Still, when her eyes focused back she found him still leaning against the headboard with his knees pulled up to his chest and his eyes staring listlessly in front of him.

The expression broke her heart.

She tried calling out to him, but any and all sound was still being sucked from the room. She couldn't help but move towards him, drinking him in. But even when she came to be directly in his line of sight he didn't so much as flinch. He obviously could not see her, like she could him.

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the image away, and when she opened them again, she found that he was gone and that the world was no longer tilting on it's axis, sound had returned and everything was just the same as it had been when she'd entered. The Doctor shuddered lightly, banishing the odd experience away as her imagination playing tricks on her. She almost scoffed at how pathetic she was, standing there in the middle of his abandoned bedroom, her mind so desperate to have him back that she was seeing things. This had been a bad idea. She should leave.

The Doctor curled up on his bed, her face buried in his pillow that only just lingered with his scent, and she fell asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: Fate**

The water was burning hot, just past the point of painful as she furiously scrubbed her red, raw skin. It hurt and she welcomed the pain, hoping to keep her mind off the disgusting, horrible thing she had done. Tears mingled with the water on her face, indistinguishable with the pelting drops as they hit her shower floor. She scrubbed herself as if what she had done would also be so easily scrubbed away.

A sob ripped through her throat and her shaking hands dropped the washcloth as the constricting pressure in her heart threatened to bring her to her knees. How could she have done that to John? To the Doctor? No matter that this is what he had intended. To drive her away towards John. She still felt as if she had betrayed him. Let him down, somehow. She had wanted to show him, prove to him so badly that he was what she wanted and that she would never leave him. That it would always be the two of them, no matter what. But instead she had...

Rose shuddered, despite the scalding heat. The bathroom at this point was filled with swirling steam, the mirrors all fogged up. She didn't know how long she had been in here, but surely it would never be long enough. How could she ever, ever face either of them again?

She had just been so angry, so upset to the point where it had been like an itch on her skin. She had been desperate for some kind of release to the anger and frustration and as a result she had used John. How could she have done this to him? Especially when he was still so hurt and vulnerable, trapped as he was away from his own Doctor. She had practically thrown herself at him! Made him partake in her sick game of revenge. Took advantage of him. He must hate her now.

And to think that she had never, not once, considered John as more than a friend since he had came onboard, and now she'd gone so far as to do this. She had always, always been able to separate him from the Doctor in her mind. Yes, he looked the same, sometimes he even acted similarly, and she had even come to care for him a great deal, but there was never the same electricity running through the air between them as there was with her own Doctor. She held too much love, too much admiration for her own Doctor, while he held too much sorrow, too much grief over the loss of his Doctor, for there to ever be any confusion or doubt as to where they stood with one another. Oftentimes, Rose felt that their entire relationship was built around the Doctor entirely. Sharing memories, advice, comfort...

She didn't know what had overcome her.

She didn't know how she could fix this.

Would he know? Would the Doctor be able to tell? Fear gripped her at the possibility, and yet fear gripped her just as strongly at the possibility that he wouldn't know. How could she go on normally with the weight of her betrayal hanging like an axe over her head? Rose bit her lip. Hard. The taste of blood filled her mouth.

She turned off the shower feeling numb, and stepped out, water dripping down her body and plinking softly on the tiles, a small pool gathering by her feet. She hadn't brought a towel with her in her haste to rid herself of her shame and so she had no option but to open the door to her room and track water onto the carpet.

The air was cold compared to the sauna she had just exited and she shivered as it brushed along her naked body. A towel appeared quite suddenly on her bed and Rose jumped, her heart beating wildly in her chest. It wasn't the first time the Tardis had provided her with something she needed, but it was rare enough to almost give her a heart attack all the same. She picked up the warm, fluffy towel and wrapped it around her body, feeling only more guilty. She didn't deserve such kindness.

She dried herself and changed into soft flannel pajamas, crawling into the cocoon of her duvet and curling up as more tears fell from her eyes. She was shaking, her whole body trembling and she could not stop it. Her mind kept tripping back to the moment, and she felt like she was watching it while in a dream, from the outside. She felt so disconnected from the memory altogether, like perhaps it hadn't even happened, or perhaps it hadn't even really been her who had committed the horrible act. It hadn't felt like her, in the moment either. The whole memory felt strangely surreal. She could never picture herself doing something like that now, the thought so abhorrent, but she knew this was all in hindsight and she couldn't judge how she'd felt then with how she felt now. Still, something was niggling at the back of her mind about the whole ordeal. About John too. The way he had so readily complied. That hadn't seemed like him either. None of it made any sense.

Rose sighed. There would be no use trying to make excuses now. It had happened and she and John both would have to take responsibility for it.

Rose shifted under the covers, trying to find a comfortable position at the same time that she tried to push her thoughts to a different focus. Rose tried to think of other things, tried to think about her mother back home, about how Mickey was doing in that parallel world, about what Shareen might be doing, but instead her mind kept bringing her back to the Doctor. All she could see in her head was him, his smiling face and the crinkles around his eyes. When was the last time she'd seen him smile like that since this whole mess had started? The wire, perhaps? Rose could hardly believe that. Could it really have been such a short amount of time ago that the Doctor had come and curled up around her, to be there for her while she slept...

_It wasn't often that Rose found herself rattled after an adventure, but she didn't think that any Dalek or Cyberman could ever match up to the fear that had gripped her when her face had been stripped from her body. When she hadn't been able to even call to the Doctor for help._

_Sleep would be impossible, she knew. Every time she closed her eyes, that all consuming fear of being stripped of all her senses came tumbling back in her mind and she would immediately open her eyes again, taking large gulping breaths as she tried to calm the fear pulsing through her body. She tried to settle down, tried to force her weary body to rest, and even succeeded for a short amount of time, but it wasn't long until she was thrashing as a nightmare ravaged her mind._

_She cried out harshly in her sleep, her whole body jolting into an upright position. The lights turned on by themselves and Rose jumped up violently, before sighing in relief and thanking the Tardis as she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror on the wall. Her face was still there. She tried to take in a few calming breaths to stop her trembling, but she still found it hard to settle her racing heart. She curled her legs up to rest her head on her knees and willed herself not to cry._

_It was then that a soft, insistent knocking came from her door. "Rose? Rose? Are you all right? Can I come in?" It was the Doctor. A part of her wanted to shout no, tell him to go away. She didn't know if she could bear the Doctor seeing her like this; breaking down like this. Would he send her home? The silly little human who was too frightened to handle his lifestyle?_

_Just as soon as the thought had entered her mind, however, she knew that she was being irrational. The Doctor wouldn't do that to her. There had been times when she had even helped him through a nightmare, comforted him when he had cried out in his sleep. He just wanted to help, and Rose was desperate for his comfort. His presence._

_"Come in." Her voice was a little hoarse from crying and as he opened the door, slowly as if not to startle her, she tried to dry the tears from her face._

_He entered her room fully and then closed the door behind him, his eyes focusing intently on her. His mouth a thin, worried line and his eyes furrowed in concern and something else she couldn't even begin to describe. Rose tried to smile reassuringly at him, but it felt forced._

_"Oh Rose," he whispered, as he softly made his way to her, his trainers slapping quietly on her carpet._

_She was expecting a hug, maybe a kiss on the forehead and a few reassuring words when he got to her. What she wasn't expecting was for him to start toeing out of his trainers and quickly begin unbuttoning his suit jacket with a weird sort of resignation in the set of his shoulders._

_"Doctor?" she questioned. It wasn't as if they had never slept in the same bed before, but it was usually only ever out of necessity. He looked up from where he was focusing with a mighty amount of concentrations on his buttons to meet her eyes. Then, his hand came up to her cheek, gently rubbing at the tear tracks that still marred her features. His voice was soft and tender when he spoke. "Would you like me to stay tonight?"_

_Her head nodded automatically; accepting, drowning, falling into even this small amount of comfort he was offering her. She didn't think she could speak past how tight her throat felt. The way he was looking at her, caressing her face..._

_He finished with his suit jacket then he loosened his tie so that he could take it off. Next he attacked the buttons of his blue oxford, shrugging it from his shoulders and leaving him in only a thin, white undershirt. Once completed, he stacked his little, neat pile onto her dresser and then turned back to her. Rose watched this all with a sort of disbelieving detachment. Surely the Doctor wasn't really in her room, taking off his clothes no less, because he was going to sleep in the same bed as her?_

_He approached her bed again, smiling a bit hesitantly. They watched each other, as if asking one another with their eyes if this was all right. Rose could think of nothing else that was more right, in all honestly. She lifted up her duvet. An invitation._

_He slid in next to her, with only the briefest of pauses, careful not to touch her. They settled themselves down, heads resting on separate pillows so that they could look at one another._

_And then his hand reached out, suddenly, the move seemingly done of its own accord. He traced her face, her features, with dare she say it, loving caresses, following the contours and angles of her jaw, tracing softly the shape of her nose, fingers sweeping across her closed eyelids, thumb following her dark eyebrows; a small hesitation before he delicately traced across and around her lips. When his hand fell away and her eyes reopened, she realized that he may need comfort just as much as her._

_"Your face," he whispered, voice cracking._

_"And you saved me," she told him softly. He took in a shuddering breath and scooted closer to her._

_"Rose."_

_The Doctor gently urged her down onto her back by pressing against her shoulder. She let him guide her down, looking into his brown eyes with surprise. He propped himself up now so that he loomed over her, his hand coming up to brush her hair out of her face. He was silent and intent in his perusal as his eyes roamed her features. He swallowed, mouth opening as if he wanted to say more, but couldn't._

_He leaned down and kissed her forehead. But he didn't stop there. His lips lightly, with the barest of touches, dragged down and around so that he could kiss her temple. Her eyelids next, which by this point had fluttered closed under his attention. The tip of her nose. Her jaw. Both apples of her cheeks. The corner of her mouth, the pressure so light it was almost nonexistent. There was a pause now, the longest pause Rose thought she had ever experienced. She dare not open her eyes, in case she broke the spell._

_Then he kissed her._

_Although kiss might be a bit generous for the amount of pressure he used. It was more like a whisper across her lips. His own lips were slightly parted and slightly chapped and she felt his cool breath ghosting across and into her mouth more than she felt his lips touch hers. She was practically trembling underneath him from the restraint it took her to not push herself up to get him to really kiss her. Properly. It lasted all of a handful of moments, that very slight feeling of his mouth. When he pulled away again, and she opened her eyes to meet his, she could sense a vulnerability in him: fear. And love for this man, this alien, filled her to the brim. If that was all he could give her for now, she would take it gladly._

_She smiled at him tenderly, hoping to reassure him that everything was okay, and he beamed back at her in reply, his eyes crinkling adorably, and a small happy sound emitting from his throat. He lowered himself back down on his side and he urged her to turn so that he could fit her body to his. She snuggled up to him, sighing softly and happily. He nuzzled gently the back of her neck and then so quietly she almost didn't hear him, he said, "Goodnight, Rose Tyler."_

Rose had thought things would be different after that. And for a brief time they were. He never kissed her again, but this didn't bother Rose. She wouldn't push him and she knew he was trying. They were closer than they had ever been. He had slept with her every night after that. Sometimes, he had even taken her on special trips for just the two of them. A beach, or dinner, or dancing. He was attentive and gentle and loving with her. Her heart had been likely to burst with the love she held for him. Rose didn't think things could get much better from there.

Then Krop Tor came along. And the beast. And his terrible predictions. _This one knows me as I know him. The killer of his own kind. Always running away from his past and pushing away his future. He fears the loss of the golden child he has stolen away. But soon enough, he shall lose her anyway to his human self._

When the beast had first spoken those words, the Doctor had insisted that it was playing on basic fears. He had urged them to forget the prophetic words. Insured them that they were all brilliant and that the beast was simply trying to rattle them all. However, by the time they were back to the Tardis the Doctor, himself, had been more shaken than usual.

_Rose hugged him, her body trembling with the relief of having him back in her arms. She'd thought she'd lost him forever, and the beast's words were still echoing largely in her mind and she couldn't help think back to them now. "Doctor, what did the beast mean? It can't have known, can't have thought...it lied, right Doctor? Just like you said. It was playing on fears. Tell me it lied."_

_The Doctor was silent and Rose clung to him, desperately. "It had to of, Doctor. It lied!" She grabbed ahold of the space suit he was still wearing, shaking him just a little. He wouldn't meet her eyes. "Doctor. Doctor. You have to know that I plan to stay with you forever. I already have chosen you. You...you must know that. So, it had to have lied. It lied. I'm not...I'm definitely not...with John. It lied. It lied."_

_She looked at him with wild, desperate eyes, willing him to believe her. When his eyes met hers she couldn't read the expression in them. "It lied," he agreed. While his voice sounded sincere his eyes told a different story._

_"Doctor..."_

_"Where do you want to go next, Rose?" he said, sliding out of her grasp like smoke to go stand behind the console. His voice was back to it's normal enthusiasm, but she knew him well enough to know it was forced._

_She closed her eyes, still trembling from fear, and wrapped her arms around herself._

_"Let's get John," she whispered, not thinking of how her words might sound to him. "I just...I want us all back together again. I want to be sure he's okay."_

_The Doctor's head snapped up to look at her, the expression still unreadable, but the intensity behind his gaze undeniable. She shivered._

_"We're not going back, Rose," he said seriously. Rose's jaw dropped at this, not understanding._

_"W-what?"_

_"I said we're not going back."_

_"You mean right now?"_

_"I mean ever."_

_"We can't just leave him," she cried. "He's waiting for us!"_

_"He'll be fine. He can improvise."_

_"Why are you doing this, Doctor? Not because of what the beast said, are you? Because I told you-"_

_"The beast has nothing to do with this. I was planning this the second he asked to be left in London for a few days. It's too dangerous having him here. This is for the best."_

_"What d'you mean it's dangerous! And you can't just make people's decisions for them like that Doctor! It's not fair! Haven't you learned anything after what happened with Sarah Jane-"_

_"This is nothing like with Sarah Jane," he snarled. "And this is what I do, Rose. Companions come and go. He'll be better off on Earth. Then it'll be-" He trailed off, swallowing his words. He wouldn't meet her eyes._

_Rose barely heard his almost tentative slip as anger flowed through her veins, making her see red. "Yeah, it is what you do, isn't Doctor. When's my turn then? Think you can squeeze a few more years out of me before you start noticing I'm getting older."_

_The jab hit it's mark and the Doctor flinched, but said nothing, continuing to stare down at the console's controls. Rose felt the smallest hint of guilt at the jab and reigning in her anger, she said softly, "Please Doctor, just listen to yourself. This is silly. Please, let's just get John-"_

_"Is that what you want?" His eyes were intense and dark, borderline angry, finally snapping up to bore into her own and Rose felt her stomach lurch unpleasantly._

_"Yes, but-"_

_"Well, all right then," he cut over her, voice so calm it was frightening as he began piloting the Tardis, pressing down on buttons and levers with more force than usual._

_"Doctor, listen to me. It's not because...I don't want...You know that I..." Her voice failed her. He ignored her anyways._

_"Here we are." His voice held no emotion, and he didn't even look up at her. Rose felt tears fill her eyes and quickly before he could see her cry, she ran out of the Tardis._

Rose hadn't been able understand why the Doctor was letting the beast's words get to him so much. The Doctor she knew would never accept some creatures words like that as some kind of fate or destiny. He didn't believe in such things. So why was he now?

She had been determined after that to prove to him that he had nothing to worry about. That the beast's words were one hundred percent completely unfounded. However, he never gave her the chance. He pulled away from her, and she felt helpless to make him see reason. He wouldn't talk to her, wouldn't even look at her. She was upset and frustrated and confused and so unsure of what to do to set everything right.

Worse than that, he began pushing her towards John, like he expected that now that he was out of the picture, she would just jump into this other man's arms. That because of what the beast had said, this was the obviously the right thing to do. She wanted to yell and scream at how stupid he was being. How much of a wanker he was. How much she loved him. But the words always got caught in her throat.

That's why when he left her on that alien planet, when her and John had gotten thrown in jail and almost executed because he couldn't stop being a prat, she had snapped.

She had wanted to hurt him like he was hurting her. Her veins had been singing for revenge by the time that they were back into Tardis. She had been overcome with rage and anger and hurt and no way to contain it. In her haze of emotions there had been no room for rational thinking or self-control. She had needed an outlet. She had needed to hurt him.

She'd proven the beast's words true.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hello! Thanks to everyone who has left a review, it means a lot to me! Special thanks to my two wonderful betas Bria and rosets2008, who both were so wonderful in helping me to make this chapter the best it could be. Lots of love to them. Also note that flashbacks are in _italics_!**

* * *

**Chapter 10: Reminders**

She was piloting the Tardis, but her ship was shuddering and wrenching itself in every direction, more so than usual in protest to their next destination. It was against every ounce of even the Doctor's better judgement to do what she was currently doing, but she was out of ideas and out of options. The ship jerked her to the ground and she grunted as her face slammed into the grating. More than a bit disoriented, she somehow managed to grab hold of the edge of the Tardis console. Pulling herself back up, she desperately pressed a few buttons in the hopes of coaxing the old girl to land. "C'mon, c'mon! Please, just to do this one thing for me!" The Tardis let loose a wild beep of protest and took another violent lurch as if trying to throw her back to the ground. The Doctor cursed in frustration before grabbing the mallet threateningly. "Don't test me right now! C'mon and land! Land!" The Tardis shuddered again.

Ianto meanwhile was hanging onto a railing for dear life as the ship jerked violently this way and that. Sparks exploded so near his head that he felt a few burning stings on his skin. He coughed as smoke entered his lungs.

"Doctor! Where the hell are you trying to take us!?"

She yelled out in frustration again, before turning to look at him while pumping something up and down that was too obscured in the smoking console for him to see. "The timelines are wrong, Ianto, and it's taken me this long to realize it! We don't have time to track down the problem; we need to get right to the source of it! Time is falling apart now," she shouted over the sound of the sparks and the violent rattling. "The timelines are tangled, but I can't tell where anymore. The wound has been festering far too long and that is all my fault! But there is one place, Ianto Jones, one place I can go that will show me what is wrong."

"Where, Doctor? Where is it!"

She flung a leg up on the console to steady the ship, and then she turned to him with a suddenly piercing glance and said in a voice that frightened Ianto to no end, "Trenzalore."

* * *

_The Tardis landed and both Ianto and the Doctor fell to the ground in a heap. The Doctor was up first as usual, and she offered Ianto a hand before spinning him towards the doors with a grin. She looked at him expectantly._

_"Oh, all right. I'll bite. Where've you taken us this time, you mad alien?"_

_She grinned. "I have absolutely no idea! More fun that way. Set her on random and here we are."_

_"I love it when you set it on random."_

_She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Could be dangerous."_

_"I'd honestly be more frightened if it wasn't, Doctor," Ianto said, his expression completely serious. "The world just has to be ending on the day the Doctor doesn't get into some form of trouble." His lips twitched and he broke character, laughing as his hand reached for the door, pulling it wide open so that they could both peer out._

_In his months of traveling with her, Ianto had grown into himself. He had loosened up considerably as they went planet to planet, witnessing the wonders of the universe. And while he still showed an outrageous amount of care for anyone he met, gone were the days when he'd let people walk all over him._

_The Doctor recognized the planet immediately as they looked out, a bright grin lighting her face. "Ah, brilliant! Aenona! Looks like we've arrived just a few years after their golden age," she said, as she took in their surroundings and tapped into her time sense. "They're famous for the tapestries they weave. The threads they use are sentient," she said grinningly as she dragged him towards a large white marbled building that lined the streets. "They move and flow into the image they are created for."_

_They entered the building, a flash from the psychic paper immediately granting them access. She pulled him to the first picture she saw, an intricate river that flowed among rocks and trees. She looked up as he watched the river literally move and bend by the thin living creatures, carefully weaving around each other. His face held wonder and she smiled brightly at the look. "Wow, that's a bit Harry Potter isn't it? Moving pictures." She laughed and pulled him along._

_They moved through the gallery, examining the wonderful pieces, blending easily in with the spectators around them. As they walked along the Doctor finally felt her heart lightening, if just a little. It had been months since she'd lost him, and for the first time the thought of him didn't hurt quite so badly._

_As they entered the main room of the gallery laughing and joking with one another, she heard a small gasp of surprise off to her left side, but when she turned her head with a questioning look, there was nothing there. Shrugging, she turned her attention back to Ianto._

_"What's that crowd doing over there, Doctor?" Ianto asked her, breaking her from her thoughts. She turned to examine what he was looking at and noticed the crowd gathered around one large tapestry, obscuring their view of the work. She lifted up on her tiptoes trying to capture a glimpse of it to no avail._

_"Huh, don't know. Let's check it out."_

_They waited for the crowds to part, pushing their way through so that they could catch a glimpse of the apparently popular art piece. When they finally arrived in front of it, the Doctor felt her hearts drop straight to her stomach._

_Familiar brown eyes and wild hair that she'd recognize anywhere, meticulously woven with living threads into the tapestry with vivid detail; it was a moving portrait of John._

_"But that's..." Ianto whispered, looking with round, wide eyes at the rendering of John up on the wall, his hair moving gently as if being blown in a breeze, all captured by the delicate living threads. Ianto turned to her. "Doctor?"_

_"I-I, It's...This doesn't make any sense. I never...We never came here together! How...?" She ran her hands with frustration through the blond strands of her hair. Her eyes came to rest once more on the portrait with something akin to wonder...and fear. "Perhaps it's just some kind of anomaly. It can't actually be..."_

_Her hearts were pounding in her chest as she looked at his face. It was entirely impossible. John was trapped. She had tried everything to get him back. So, what could it possibly mean that his face was here on a planet that she was sure she had never taken him to? It seemed that no matter how hard she tried to move on, there was no escaping his presence. But there had to be some kind of explanation for how he came to be here. Perhaps this man in front of her was not really John, but just a doppelganger. It was possible; after all, she had seen things a thousand times more impossible than some kind of genetic anomaly. But at the same time there was the possibility that...She could hardly bring herself to think it in case it wasn't true! But there was a chance, a slight chance that just maybe if he was here on some planet she had never visited with him before...maybe she would get him back in the future! Could it be that right now he was traveling and saving the world with her in her immediate future, that right in front of her was proof of that? The thought filled her with so much hope that she thought she might burst with it. Eagerly, unable to help herself from letting the idea run rampant in her head, she quickly lunged and grabbed the arm of the nearest curator when he walked by. "Excuse me, but can you tell me about this piece," she practically demanded, gesturing to the likeness of John._

_"How can it be that you've not heard one of our most famous legends here on Aenona, miss? It happened ever so long ago and the details are jumbled at best, but I will recount to you what has been passed down for generations in our Kingdom._

_You see, Mecerellius, our late and most beloved ruler, may he rest in peace, was the second eldest son in a household of a long line of rulers. His brother Meckerolonious was the eldest, and after the King their father's death, Meckerolonious was meant to be King in his place as was his birth right. However, the council saw Mecerellius as a more apt and wiser man, and thus he was selected over his brother to rule._

_The rejected brother, in a fit of rage and jealousy, disappeared soon after Mecerellius took the throne. Not long after his disappearance, a sinister plot was rumored to have been afoot, a plan of rebellion by one of the King's closest advisors. This traitor planned to assist in the murder of our most beloved ruler and many believed he was working for the would-have-been-King, the most tyrannical and jealous brother, Meckerolonious. But it was spelled out in our histories that before such an event could take place, a man fell out of the stars on a steed of blue to vanquish the brewing conflict._

_The details have since been lost, but it was said that he saved the King's life and aided the capture and imprisonment of the evil brother. Alas, the man was gone soon thereafter, flying back into the heavens from whence he descended. Many praise him as a deity sent down to us in our time of trouble. The King had this tapestry made to honor the help he provided, and for saving His Majesty's life."_

_The Doctor listened to his story with rapt attention, her heart pounding at its meaning. She asked, her mouth slightly dry, "Do the accounts give a name for this man? Do they say if he was alone or perhaps if he...had help?"_

_"That's actually a fascinating point, Miss, one that has been long debated by our top historians. Some records suggest that he was in the company of a man and a woman, but the sources are hard to decipher." The Doctor's heart was pounding. A man and a woman; her and Ianto perhaps. Could it be that they would all travel together one day?_

_She took this in, feeling dizzy. "A-and...any mentions of a name?"_

_"Ah yes." The man had smiled at her kindly and excitedly. "His name was said to be John. John Smith."_

_She thought her hearts would burst right out of her chest. There was no other explanation for it then. He had to be coming back to her somehow! Once more traveling the stars together, saving worlds like this one. It was enough to bring tears to her eyes, just the idea that she might one day see him again. She grabbed the man's hands and spun excitedly around with him, unable to help herself with the utter joy she was feeling. "Oh, this is marvelous! A marvelous tale! Thank you!" The curator gave her a rather befuddled look, but smiled at her kindly. "You're quite welcome, miss."_

_Words were inadequate to describe the joy that encompassed her over the next few trips. Where so long she had been melancholic and moving on because she must, she now found instead a new sense of purpose and life everywhere they went. She could once again look at the universe with a sense of joy, knowing that John would one day share it with her again. Her Tardis kept up regular scans for more cracks between the void and this world, just in case, and while Ianto was sleeping she eagerly ran calculations and read various books, seeing if she could find any way of assisting him back through the void. Her various failures didn't trouble her as they once might have because she knew now that it was only a matter of time. And how could she be disheartened when so many foreshadowings that she would one day get him back were popping up all over the universe?_

_His name was almost everywhere she went, following her across time and space. John Smith. Sometimes it was in casual passing, sometimes it was with reverence or thankfulness that they spoke it, sometimes he had even been proclaimed a deity on the planets she visited, such as he had been on Aenona. Pictures and sculptures and art were proof enough that it was her John. Even the ominous words Bad Wolf began reappearing frequently, but now instead of filling her with dread, they filled her only with the hope of his presence. What other explanation was there except that he was coming back to her? She never bothered to consider any others, lost as she was in her utter hope and belief that she would one day be able to hold him in her arms._

_She couldn't help loving these reminders that he would one day be with her again. They had become a solace to her. She could imagine them out there somewhere, saving worlds and living a fantastic life with together again. It comforted her, feeling his presence so very close everywhere she went. She'd even begun opening up to Ianto about him, as she found that the foreknowledge had eased the heartache dramatically._

_At first her recounting of John had been vague at best; she wouldn't say much as the pain was still too recent. However, as time passed she began opening up more and more to the point where she couldn't seem to stop. She began telling Ianto stories of him, trying to look for some kind of connection amidst the craziness and randomness of his 'presence' on these other worlds, hoping for it to offer some clue as to how and when she would get him back. And soon she found herself telling stories of him simply to keep his memory alive. A planet would explain how he had heroically swept in to save them, and in turn she would tell of another time she remembered when he had given her the most brilliant idea that had ended up saving thousands of people. And the more she talked fondly of him, the less it began hurting. She was able to look back on the memories with hope and an overwhelming amount of happiness. The wounds were no longer festering, and even though it didn't stop completely from hurting, and didn't stop her from missing him, she was grateful that she no longer looked back with a sense of hurt and regret. For one day she knew he would be back!_

_Oh, but how wrong she was. As time passed, she began noticing how history seemed to be changing on planets spread out around the galaxies. It was small at first, a detail here or there, but it began getting worse. Where once empires and kingdoms and democracies lived in their golden age, she found death, destruction and hopelessness in its stead. World after world plagued by horror, Reapers and Daleks and Cyberman and corrupt rulers, until she could no longer keep up, she couldn't always save the day. It was horrifying the way the timelines seemed to be breaking down everywhere, especially when she was helpless to stop it. All her hopes were quickly depleted as she realized the truth, that every place where she had ever seen or heard of John was somehow wrong._

_But by the time the realization had dawned upon her, it was too late. There were hints of him turning up around the universe more than ever, and the more it happened the more destruction of timelines she began to sense. At first she had tried to deny that anything was wrong, she told herself that John would come back to her and all would be well again. But no matter how much she tried to convince herself, the timelines were still running rampant in her head, all twisted, tangled and mutilated to the point of being nauseating. History was unraveling, not just on Earth but on planets across numerous galaxies. The Doctor was at a loss for how to fix it, or what went wrong in the first place and how it all connected back to John when he wasn't even here. The Doctor was absolutely terrified. She had no idea what to do, having let it go on for this long because she had been so afraid to lose this last bit of him that she had left. And now the universe would pay the price for her negligence. Time was being ripped apart and it was all her fault._

* * *

"Trenzalore? What's at Trenzalore?"

"My grave."

"Your WHAT?"

"My grave," she grunted, as she threw all her weight at a lever to move it upright. The Tardis groaned at the action. "And we really shouldn't, ahhh, be going there." Her voice was slightly out of breath as she spoke.

"Then why the hell are we going there?" Ianto shouted over the noise.

She threw him a manic grin that in no way served to ease his worries. "When have you ever known me to do what I'm supposed to, hmm? And HA!"

With a flick of her wrist, the floor suddenly went out from under their feet and they were forced to grab onto the railings as they began to rapidly free fall. "WHAT IS GOING ON!" Ianto shouted out miserably as the Doctor whooped and hollered. His stomach was rolling with nausea and he was quite sure at this point that the Doctor had completely_ lost it_. His pleas, however, went unanswered.

The Tardis landed with a sickening crash and both he and the Doctor were thrown to the ground, face first into the grating. Both of them let loose loud moans of pain.

The Doctor recovered first, swiftly standing up and letting loose another triumphant, "HA!" as she fist punched the air. She spun around in glee and then, seeming to finally notice the still groaning lump that was Ianto, she went over to help him to his feet. She held out her hand to him, but he ignored it and groaned once more. "Leave me here to die, Doctor. I can't go on."

"Oh, stop being so dramatic, you," she said as she forcefully yanked his resisting body upwards. He immediately clutched his throbbing head when he was once again standing. "Oww..."

The Doctor, however, was giddy. But not the good kind of giddiness - more like the crazy kind. She yanked her blue leather jacket from the coral strut and threw it on. "C'mon then. Time isn't going to fix itself," she said, cackling. Ianto looked at her worriedly.

"Doctor, what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing! Nothing at all! Everything is perfectly fine! I'm fine! Perfectly fine! More fine than wine! So, how about it, then? Let's go, let's go, let's go, let's go-"

Ianto grabbed her shoulders forcefully. "Doctor!"

She blinked rapidly, her eyes nearly rolling back in her head. She squeezed them shut tightly and gripped her head for a long moment before tentatively opening them to meet his eyes again.

"Sorry about that," she said, her voice slightly sheepish.

Ianto just smiled, relieved. "Welcome back, Doctor."

She looked at him wide-eyed for a moment. Finally, she nodded. "Right then, thank you."

"Not so fast, Doctor," he said, giving her a rather pointed look before she could say anything. "Why don't you explain to me what's going on here because quite honestly, you're frightening the hell out of me!"

She let out a deep sigh. "I still can't quite believe I managed to get us here in the first place, brilliant as I am."

"Oh, I believed you could get us here. Alive, however, I wasn't so sure."

"Oi!"

"But where is here, Doctor? What is Trenzalore? And more importantly, could you please explain to me why we shouldn't be here? I'd like to know what I'm getting into. I'd like to know where I'm going."

She blew a piece of hair out of her face as she regarded him steadily. "Well, there are a few rules us time travelers are meant to follow. You know some of the basics, yeah? Don't mess with fixed points, don't cross your own timeline, that kind of thing. But there's one other big rule, one I thought that even I would never, ever break."

"What is it, Doctor?"

"You _never_ visit your own grave. Why d'you think that Tardis was putting up so much of a fight?"

"Maybe because you were losing it back there! Doctor, I've never seen you act like that before. I was worried! What was wrong with you?" Ianto shook his head.

"Oh, that," she said, voice slightly embarrassed. "You see, being in such close proximity with my own time stream scrambles the brain a little, and with the timelines in jeopardy as they are...I'm part of many histories, Ianto Jones, on thousands of planets across the galaxies. Everywhere I've ever been. And all of that history is in danger of changing or has already been changed, and as a result my own life, my own time stream is in danger. I can feel it," she breathed out, voice low and afraid, "I can feel my life breaking apart with no way to stop it. It's maddening being as close as we are to that. My whole time stream is fracturing and it hurts."

Ianto looked troubled. "Doctor, I don't know what you're talking about. Your time stream? Your grave?"

"Ah, yes," she said, her eyes dark. "You see, when a Time Lord or Lady dies, they leave a distinct path through history. Well, it's more like a tear. Multiple tears made to the fabric of time and space. Time travel is damaging to the fabric of reality, and here at my grave rests the scar tissue of my travels. All my life mapped out by thread after thread of disruptions in time. But it's burning. It's wrong. And that's why we're here."

"To fix it?"

"No, we can't fix it! We can't even touch it! In all honesty every instinct in me is telling me to fly the hell away. I shouldn't go near it! I shouldn't even look at it! But don't you see? I'm all out of options, Ianto." Her voice cracked over the words as she looked towards the ground. "Tick tock, time's running out for the Time Lady."

"Doctor..."

"Well, then. Off we pop. Not like me to ever follow the rules anyway. It's only a matter of time now before I do something totally stupid like trying to alter fixed events," she muttered darkly. "I mean, why not? It's not like I haven't already damned the universe anyway, right?"

"Doctor," Ianto tried again. "It's not your fault. Whatever's happening with Time or the timelines or whatever, you can't keep blaming yourself like this. It's not your fault."

She laughed bitterly. "Oh yes, right! Thank you for clearing that up, Ianto; because it wasn't me, right, who ignored all those damned warning signs because I was so desperate to think that I was getting back one stupid, insignificant human boy whom I never should have allowed too close to me in the first place! Come to think of it, we could add that to the list, yeah? Another rule broken," she spit out at him. "But yeah, that wasn't me at all. Good thing I've got you around." Ianto flinched at her words.

"He wouldn't want you to blame yourself either," Ianto said meekly, despite the hurt building up within him. She glared viciously at him, but he stood his ground.

"What gives you the right to say such a thing? You never knew him."

"Yes...but I know, I k-know that if he loved you like I love you, then he wouldn't want you to blame yourself. The same way I don't," he said quietly, his face heating up at the confession and his heart pounding violently in his chest. He wasn't thick enough to believe she was unaware of his feelings. He _had_ spent months with her purposely acting oblivious and deflecting all his advances, after all. It had been obvious how desperately she still loved and missed John, but it hadn't stopped Ianto from loving her anyway. Even if his feelings were unrequited, even if she'd never looked at him the way he looks at her - if he could just take a small piece of this heavy burden off her shoulders, the pain of her rejection would be worth it.

When she looked up at him, her eyes were shining and all traces of anger were gone from her face. He held open his arms to her tentatively and she stepped into them, burying her face into his chest. He held her tightly and relished the feeling of being wrapped around her, before he forcefully pushed those thoughts away. He would be what she needed him to be.

"I know I can never replace him, Doctor. But I care about you and I'm here for you. We can face this together. We can fix whatever's going on here together."

When she pulled back after a few moments, her face was once again determined. Ianto smiled brightly at the sight of it. She brought her hand up to softly touch his cheek and said, "Thank you."

"Anytime, Doctor."

"Right then. Best be on our way."

She swung open the Tardis doors and then stepped out into the quiet and dreary graveyard. The Doctor's face tightened immediately and Ianto instinctively grabbed her hand. They both looked up to see a large police box silhouetted in the moonlight.

"Oh my," Ianto breathed out.

"That's fitting," the Doctor said with a forced casualness. "The Tardis being my tombstone."

"You mean a replica of the Tardis? That's huge!"

"No, no. That's my Tardis. My actual Tardis. Dimensions are breaking down now that she's...passed."

"That's incredible."

"Yes," she said softly, as they both looked upon the magnificent sight. "Right then," she said after a moment, quickly beginning to drag him along. "We need to get in and out quickly. Like I said, we really shouldn't be here, so the faster we are the better."

The trek to the giant blue box was tiresome. The ground was on a steep incline and old tombstones, rocks and gnarled roots impeded their path every step of the way. Ianto thought he must have tripped at least fifty times on the way up, much to the Doctor's amusement. Ianto, however, hadn't found it the least bit funny as this was one of his more expensive suits and there was no way that these questionable stains were ever coming out.

"That's why I've always just my trusty leather jacket. Very durable," she said, tongue between her teeth in response to his angry grumbling.

"Well, as I recall, you weren't wearing it in that picture I saw of you," he muttered petulantly, recalling the soft pink hoodie she had been wearing when her arms had been wrapped around Jack and John. He had never seen her wear anything similar to that in all his time traveling with her.

The Doctor was silent at this assessment, much to his surprise. When he looked up at her in question, her eyes were focused on the ground.

"Doctor. You've been talking about him nonstop for the past few months and now you want to close me out?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. She sighed.

"You're right, it's just...silly, I guess. I used to wear hoodies like that all the time with him, you know. He just...made me feel young. More innocent than I was. Than I am." She plucked at the leather of her jacket. "This is much more fitting for who I truly am, don't you think. Hard and cold. A warrior and a killer."

"Doctor..."

"Here we are," she said before he could say anything else, cutting him off more effectively with her tone than anything else. Ianto followed her gaze. Looking up at its doors now, the Tardis was absolutely massive.

"Bloody hell."

"Now, how to get in," the Doctor mused.

"Maybe there's some kind of secret entrance or maybe..."

The Doctor snapped her fingers. With a frightening, bellowing creak that Ianto would insist vehemently did not make him scream like a girl, the Tardis's doors opened just a crack.

"Ah, brilliant! I've always been one to walk straight into a situation! Secret entrances, trap doors and the like are just, blehhhh. I much prefer the direct approach. Much quicker this way!"

"You're mad."

She simply grinned at him.

They slipped past the door into what looked like the console room, only it was in tatters compared to the lively place Ianto was used to. There were no branching coral struts or soft, green lighting. The colors were muted and dull, with everything inside battered and old, plants weaving and growing all along the jump seat and ramp. However, all of this was on the peripheral of Ianto's thoughts as the thing that caught his attention almost immediately was the beautiful shimmering and silver strands that were twisting and coiling where the central column used to reside. Ianto's jaw dropped at the sight, and voices started ringing out all around them.

"What is that?" Ianto breathed out.

"Me. That's me. What I'll become. Echoes in time."

"It's beautiful," he said, unable to help himself. She smiled weakly at him, but her face was pale.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah, m'fine."

"It's okay to be scared, Doctor," he said, very softly.

"No, it's not...It hurts to be here. You remember how I compared time travel to wounds in time? Well these are all my wounds, right here. All the ones that I've created. And I can feel them all at once and it hurts. It's dangerous to be here, and with the timelines already so unstable, it's all the more dangerous and painful."

"Well let's do this quick, then," Ianto said hurriedly, unable to bear seeing her in pain. "Or, well, what exactly is it that we're doing?"

"I have to find where things went wrong in the timelines. Something isn't right. So my time stream should reflect that, yeah? Be poisoned by the cancer, if you will. Well, only if I'm directly involved somehow, but seeing that John was involved for some reason, there's no doubt that I am as well. And if I just knew where it was, then I can go back and fix it." She pulled out her screwdriver and did a quick scan of the patch of lights. It danced and coiled as she ran the screwdriver over it, until a shimmering line burst forth, one limp and lifeless in comparison to the others. A sickly red color spread out from it, curling outwards as it began infecting the other strands, its progress slow but steady.

"Is that it?" he whispered.

"Shhh," she breathed, her eyes fixated upon it.

Just then, voices started to burst forth out of the thread of light, images rapidly engulfing them. Ianto was swept up into the memories that did not belong to him, so intensely that he couldn't remember where he began and the memory ended. He felt all that was, all that is, and all that ever could be, and most importantly _all that should have been_ (but was not) in the memories. A memory that he now knew had not happened the way it should have. The flawed events flew past him in quick succession as they played out before his eyes.

_The Doctor shouting out to hold on._

_Someone slipping and falling._

_Banging. Tears. Desperation._

_Bring him back. Bring him back._

_Months and months of hopelessness._

_No touch._

_Am I ever going to see you again?_

_You can't._

_I love you._

_Quite Right, too_.

When it finally ended, Ianto gasped desperately for breath. What the hell had that been? His scrambled thoughts flew to the Doctor. Frantically, he began searching for her. She was curled up on the ground and Ianto felt fear constrict his heart as he fell to his knees by her side.

"Doctor! Doctor!" He checked for a pulse, and let out a little choked sound of relief when he felt the fluttering beats of her two hearts. "C'mon Doctor, wake up!"

When she did, she gasped and coughed much like he had moments ago. Her face was wet with tears and his heart clenched in utter sympathy, his own eyes stinging with fresh tears. The memories of her loss had been so strong, almost as if it were his own.

"Did you see it, Ianto?" she asked in a raspy, desperate voice. She gripped him by the lapels of his jacket. "Did you see it?" He only nodded, finding that words failed him. And then to his complete and utter surprise, she laughed gleefully.

He was still trembling from the onslaught of emotions his body had just been forced to undergo in such a short amount of time. Emotions that he now knew she had experienced. His mind was still reeling from the memories of John falling, the one story that she had not and would not tell him. When he looked at her face, there was something there now that hadn't been there before; that light he had always promised himself he would try to put back into her eyes, but had never quite been able to. He asked the only thing question he could. "What does it all mean, Doctor?"

Her answering smile was like the sun. "It means," she said, "that I can get him back!"


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hey everyone, here's the next chapter. Also, quick note that I probably won't post a chapter at all next week because I'm going away on Friday. I promise to try and get a chapter up soon after I get back :) Thanks again to my two amazing betas, Bria and rosets2008, who caught all my crappy grammar and gave me marvelous help and suggestions on this chapter!**

* * *

**Chapter 11: Advice**

John was in his room - not the plain white room that he'd taken to staying in since he'd found himself in this parallel world, but rather the room this Tardis had supplied him with when he'd first arrived here; an exact replica to his own back home.

He'd stumbled upon the door to the replicated room a few times in the hallways since that first night, almost as if the Tardis was giving him a choice, letting him know the option was still there if he wanted it. He never had. He could hardly look at the familiar paneling of the dark wood without feeling a tug to his heart.

That was the main reason he was here now. Hiding like the coward he was. Neither Rose nor the Doctor would ever think to check for him here.

The familiar blue and oak furniture felt oppressive and suffocating. It gave him just the right amount of distraction to keep his tumultuous thoughts away from-

John sighed, drawing his knees up closer to his chest. He lounged against the headboard, his eyes staring determinedly ahead and his mouth set in a thin line as he willed those thoughts away the best he could.

Time passed in a hazy fog, minutes rolling by him relentlessly. His mind felt like a storm battering him from all sides, wind ripping and howling much like the void that had dragged him into this world.

When John could take it no longer, he stood up without thinking and walked straight out of the room. He felt sick and all he wanted was to _forget_.

It was this impulse that led John to the galley.

* * *

The Doctor set down the book he had been trying to read for the past half hour with a tired sigh. He rubbed at his eyes, frustrated that he couldn't focus his thoughts on the words on the page. His mind was determinately straying to the blonde woman he was currently avoiding. And ignoring. And missing.

He had bollocksed things up quite nicely indeed with said pink and yellow human. He had known that trying to put some distance between them wouldn't be easy, but lately it had been taking a lot more out of him than he had originally hoped, especially since he and Rose were no longer even on speaking terms. But she must know that he wasn't doing this out of want. She must know that all his actions thus far had purely been for her benefit. What (he thinks) would be better in the long run for all of them. Maybe she couldn't see that now, but one day she she would thank him for his foresight, for saving them both from heartbreak in the future.

Right?

He could only hope that his control could hold out. He missed her terribly as it was; her hand to hold, that lovely tongue-touched smile that he would swear she reserved just for him, the one that made both his hearts flutter like the wings of a hummingbird inside his chest, sappy as it sounded. He even fiercely missed the simple companionship she always so unreservely gave him; the way she so effortlessly staved off his loneliness with her very presence.

But he had done this to himself, he knew. He had pushed her away, no matter how noble his intentions had been. Or had he really just been a coward? So afraid of what the Beast had predicated, so afraid of losing her because he had already come so close to it twice in quick succession? So afraid because hadn't he already witnessed what happened when a Time Lord got too close to a human? No happy ending down that route, he knew. So how was he ever supposed to allow Rose to get close to him when such forceful reminders were staring him in the face that it would undoubtedly end in tears? He does not want Rose to undergo the same anguish that John was currently experiencing. By pushing her away now, he was protecting her from future heartbreak. And by pushing her towards John, well, then maybe some happiness could be wrought out of this hell they all had found themselves in. Even if the thought of them together made his skin boil, he would endure it for her. No matter what his own thoughts were on the subject. They would realize soon enough how much better this would be for all involved.

However, it didn't stop every ounce of his being from wanting to comfort her and apologize and assure her that of course she is what he wants. Didn't stop him from wanting to kiss her again, properly this time. Not some half attempt like that time in her bedroom. He had been so lost in her those few weeks after the Wire, so very drunk of the love she offered him while never pushing him into something he couldn't or wasn't ready to give. Things had been so perfect. It felt like it was just the two of them again. A happier time before their visit to that damned alternate universe. He had wanted her so badly; was finally ready to take what he had wanted for so long. The Wire and her injury weren't about to stop him. Those events where he had almost lost her, had only spurred him on at the time, made him anxious to claim what was his and let the universe know that nothing was taking her from him.

The Beast had been a much needed wake up call for him. The ominous words a cruel reminder that Rose was indeed only human and that her time with him was numbered. Normally, after such a distressing situation with such cruel promises of an unavoidable fate, the Doctor would have been quick to dust off such words as nonsense and to reassure Rose of the same thing. He didn't concern himself with fate and destiny. Yet he hadn't been able to keep his mind from flashing back to the conversation he'd had with John months back. How the Beast's words in their own universe had turned the other Doctor to such hateful actions, how she had been terrified to lose him in much the same way as he was afraid to lose Rose. And hadn't he watched before his very eyes that same prophesy play out mere hours later when John had fallen inescapably towards the void? Hadn't he watched John's Doctor live out her worst fears of losing him? Who was to say that the beast's words wouldn't hold true in this universe when they had seemed to hold so much truth in the alternate reality that was so very similar to their own?

It was one thing to know that Rose could be harmed at any moment in the course of their many adventures. One thing to know that he would one day outlive her ephemeral human existence, that there was no way for her to ever stay with him forever. And it was another thing entirely to know just how short that forever really was, how quickly it was threatened to be cut off. They had fallen to John's world mere weeks after John and his Doctor had encountered the Beast in their timeline. So how much time did that leave him and Rose before she realized how much more she deserved than him, just as the Beast in this timeline had predicted? No, he was doing the right thing by pushing her away now. Then she wouldn't have to feel so guilty about choosing John. She was already so close to John as it was. It really was only a matter of time before they realized how much more they could get from one another than from the old broken Time Lords they had previously attached themselves to.

And as much as he could wrap his brilliant mind around how much better this would be for everyone, his hearts were still very much troubled. They betrayed him in their longing and desperation to seek her out and to gain both her forgiveness and love once more. The ache was almost unbearable, the desperate rhythm they beat out in yearning for her. If he wasn't so utterly used to his bodies' betrayal of this deep-seated need of her, then he would be absolutely disgusted with himself. He was above such nonsense. Or at least he used to be. The rules, it seemed, did not apply one iota to a certain Rose Tyler.

But as much as he longed for her, he had equally steeled himself with resolve to do what was best for her. Because if there was one thing he wanted more than her, it was that he wanted her to be _happy_.

The Doctor sighed tiredly. Dwelling on such thoughts tended to take its toll on him. But it was nothing a good cuppa couldn't fix. He pushed himself up from his perch on his bed and quietly padded his way down to the galley, wary of waking his sleeping companions, both of whom were most likely still furious with him after today's misadventure.

When he entered the galley, however, he was surprised to find it already occupied. John was resting his head face down on the table, a cooling cup of tea next to him. The Doctor was unsure if the other man was truly sleeping or just too lost in thoughts to have noticed him enter. The Doctor thought about turning around, unsure if he wanted to deal with the confrontation that was sure to arise if he stayed. However, he couldn't bring himself to be driven out of his own galley. He had too much pride for that. So, ignoring that John was even there he began fixing himself some tea.

When he turned back around with a steaming cuppa in his hand John was staring at him with a stricken face. The Doctor frowned, taken aback by the look. _Anger_ he would have expected, but not this half fearful, half guilty look that was being directed his way with familiar (scarily so) brown eyes. The intensity of John's gaze was startling enough to give him pause.

"Ummm," the Doctor said, for once not quite sure really what to say. Perhaps he should have bolted when he had the chance.

"Have you checked on Rose recently?" John's voice was dull and emotionless and he wouldn't meet the Doctor's eyes.

The Doctor furrowed his eyebrows at this, feeling inexplicably confused by the man's behavior. "I've not," he said slowly.

"Oh." And that was it. One word. No berating or anger or anything the Doctor had been expecting.

"Is that it?" he couldn't help asking, his voice incredulous.

"Is what it?" John's tone was free of all emotion, perfectly blank, and his eyes were focused with a fierce determination on the now cold cuppa in his hand. The drink didn't look as if it had been touched.

"I just...I was under the impression that you were both furious with me. I was expecting some... weeeelll, anger. Not that I'm complaining! Nope, not me. All water under the bridge, ehh?" The Doctor laughed somewhat nervously, rubbing the back of his neck as the other man's head shot up at his words.

John met his eyes, the expression practically indecipherable and utterly intense. "That's what you think? It's all just water under the bridge?" He barked a laugh.

"Umm."

"Because I can assure you that it is not. In fact, I would say the whole damn bridge is flooded, Doctor. That's how badly things are fucked up right now. Don't you realize how much of an absolute total wanker you've been?" John said succinctly. "And as hard as it might be for you to wrap your big Time Lord brain around it, you were wrong today. Hell, you've been wrong for the past few weeks, ever since the beast. You shouldn't have abandoned us back on that planet without informing us of its customs. You shouldn't be pushing Rose away. And you _definitely_ shouldn't be pushing her towards me." This last was said rather bitterly, self-disgust clawing in his voice that the Doctor couldn't begin to understand.

Silence descended upon the little room as John once again focused his eyes down on his drink while the Doctor silently fumed at the accusations that had just been hurled at him. Before the Doctor could form a reply, John asked "Have you got something stronger than tea? I have a feeling we're going to need it." He looked down at his cold cup of tea to punctuate the point.

The Doctor's jaw flapped uselessly for a moment at the non sequitur, and then anger suffused his veins, stronger than before. His jaw tightened. He was allowing John to stay on his ship out of _kindness_, despite the fact that it was getting more difficult for him to resist the urge to throw the other man straight out of the air lock. This man had no right to tell him how he should be handling anything. John was a passenger. A guest. If the Doctor wanted advice from him, he would've asked. He had just opened his mouth to snarl a vicious retort when a bottle of hypervodka suddenly appeared on the table. The Doctor's anger turned to perplexity in the space of a minute. John laughed gleefully, the noise in drastic contrast to his previously spiteful words.

"Your Tardis is quite fond of me, I've found," John said nonchalantly as he took a large swig of the alcohol, throwing the Doctor completely for a loop. "Not sure why. Could be something to do with Bad Wolf or maybe because I look like you. Perhaps both? Yeah, I think it's safe to say that we've gotten quite close," John stroked the table fondly and the Doctor watched with a growing sense of unease, feeling rather betrayed by his ship.

"Would you like some?" John asked, holding out the bottle. "You look like you could use it too."

The Doctor opened his mouth, determined to draw up his anger and let the other man have it, but in the end couldn't quite manage it. Instead he sighed and nodded. Taking the bottle from John's hands, he quickly gulped down a large swig himself, enjoying the burning feeling of the liquid as it travelled down his throat.

"You know, I'd always wanted to try and get my Doctor drunk back when I was traveling with her," John said, apropos to nothing, smiling a little wistfully. "I thought maybe it would help her to loosen up a bit and then, well-" His cheeks turned pink. "N-not..anything, I mean, I wouldn't have- I just wanted to see what she would say with her guard let down, you know? Not that I would have been opposed to- Anyway, doesn't matter now I guess."

"Time Lords don't get drunk."

John rolled his eyes, his former embarrassment evaporating. He took another large, burning swig. "Figures. You lot are a bit of a stick in the mud race, you know. Really, it took me two years just to get a snog." Something akin to understanding lit up in John's eyes and he suddenly bent a little towards the Doctor, lowering his voice conspiratorially as he asked, "Is it because Time Lords are asexual? Me'n Rose discussed this once, you know. It would actually explain a-"

The Doctor squeaked indignantly, quickly forcing down the blood that tried to rush to his face (Time Lords do _not_ blush). "We're not asexual! And I'd much rather we don't talk about-"

John cut him off, grinning, his words just beginning to slur as the familiar warmth of the alcohol pulsed through his veins and loosened his tongue to dangerous degrees. "Am I making you feel uncomfortable? All the talk about sex and snogging? Snooogginng. Lovely word, that. I bet you saw it too, didn't you? When I snogged my Doctor? That room was glass, after all. Heh. I bet that was quite the show. Bet it gave you lots of idea."

"Stop it," the Doctor said, squirming uncomfortably in his seat, feet itching to run away from this conversation. How had they even gotten here? He would much rather face the yelling again.

"Have you snogged Rose yet, Doctor? Properly? With both of you in your right mind? With..._intent_?" The word rolled around the other man's mouth, coming out far too dirty for the Doctor's liking. "Who knows? Maybe you did - before you started pushing her away, of course," he said, his look contemplative. The Doctor was silent.

"I have, you know," he offered up, again nonchalantly, but with a darkness brewing just underneath his words. "Snogged Rose."

Despite himself, the Doctor felt his hands curl up into fists underneath the table. "Have you?"

"Ooooh, look at that jealousy! The Oncoming Storm in all his glory, eh? It's not like this isn't what you asked for, Doctor. You did this to yourself, with all those subtle brush offs you gave her. Let me tell you a little something about human nature, Doctor. When someone feels rejected, the next thing they do is their damned best to feel _un_rejected. Hence the snogging. Buuuuut, I suppose I can let you in on a little secret if you want?" John's eyes sparkled dangerously with unreadable emotions. The Doctor didn't know if he really wanted to know what this man had to confess, but he couldn't help himself. "What?"

"I wasn't thinking about Rose when she snogged me and she most _definitely_ was not thinking about me."

The Doctor tightened his jaw (so as not to let it drop again). As surprised as he was at this revelation, he did his absolute best not to let it show. John grinned, a grin brimming with both malice and self-hatred, and he delivered the final, unexpected blow. "And it definitely didn't stop at snogging."

Feeling as though the air had been sucked right out of his lungs, the Doctor couldn't help himself from letting out a low growl. As against violence as he was, he was sorely tempted to launch himself at the other man to deliver a blow across the latter's face. His hands were bunched in white-knuckled grips under the table, shaking as he restrained himself from his impulses. He said nothing, but the effect the other man's words had on him was obvious. He was seething, breathing hard and ragged as he stared John down. His anger was churning dangerously in his veins, blood running hot. He searched for words instead, hateful or spiteful words, ones that would adequately hurt the man to the degree he was feeling, but he had nothing to say, no words would come forth from his brilliant brain and finally, finally he crashed back down into his chair and leaned his elbows on the table. With all the strength he could muster he calmed his face back into a semblance of indifference, smoothing out the angry lines and hurt. This all took place in the span of a second, but it was still too late. That brief flicker of his emotions had been enough.

He heard the gentle scraping of a chair as John scooted just a touch closer, leaning forward to meet the Doctor's eyes. "Now I bet you wish you _could_ get drunk," John said with forced lightness.

"Shut up."

"No, I don't think I will. I think you need to hear this. I know that I have no right to lecture you or to ask you to apologize for the past few weeks because I don't deserve your apologies any more than you deserve mine, but it still needs to be said. You have got to stop pushing Rose away. You might be scared … that it's better to let her go, that it'll save you from heartbreak or that it's better for her...whatever reason you've used to justify it, but trust me when I say it's not better. Rose is miserable. And she's miserable because _you've_ made her that way. You've hurt her so much in the past few weeks that she felt the need to-" John trailed off, but the implications of the sentence were obvious enough that the Doctor visibly blanched. "And it was wrong of me to let her, and of course I feel awful for it. I was absolutely selfish...no, _we_ were absolutely selfish, but I was the one who should have stopped her, but I didn't and so it happened. But not because she wanted me or I wanted her, but because we were both hurt. And she was hurt because of _you_, Doctor." John met his eyes with a serious look. "I can't fix this, much as I would like to. I care about Rose, of course I do, but I'm not who she needs to be happy, any more than she is who I need to be happy." This last part was said in barely more than a whisper, before he cleared his throat and said, "You're the only one who can fix this. Stop making both of you miserable and for God's sake, stop pushing her away."

The Doctor was stunned speechless, the itch to run growing ever stronger. Still he felt his mouth betray him, tentatively asking, "She's really that...that hurt? That upset? That's why she-"

John looked away, shame burning in his face that he had allowed that incident to happen in the first place. "Y-yeah," John responded faintly. "But don't think for a second that there is anything going on between us or that there ever will be."

A pause

John closed his eyes. "We were both...not in a good place at the time. It wasn't right. Everything felt so...odd. Like the whole thing was a dream or an out-of-body experience."

Another pause

Then John looked back towards his cup, tracing the rim of it with his finger as a means to keep himself occupied. "You have to understand that we weren't sleeping with _each other._ T-that...that wasn't our intentions."

The Doctor had nothing to say to that.

"Do you know how hard it is to watch you throw this away?" John asked suddenly. "This chance you have? A chance that I've lost. It could all be gone at any second, ripped away, and you think that's why you need to push her away, but have you ever dared to view it as a reason you should pull her closer? To not have any regrets? Do you really think it will hurt any less when you lose her if you keep her at arm's length? From what I can see you're both miserable as it is. Do you really want to look back on your time with her with that kind of weight?"

It was uncomfortable to have his oldest views and rules challenged by this man who couldn't possibly understand the life he has led and the losses that accompanied it. The urge to run, to argue, was rising just beneath the surface of his skin again. But he held his tongue back. As much as he would hate to admit it, John had a point. A small point. This distance he was holding Rose at was doing a right number on everyone, it seemed. Perhaps he'd done too good of a job at pushing her away. Perhaps they could go back to how they were before this mess. Best mates. A comfortable arrangement that wouldn't hinder her or hurt him more than necessary. They could make it work as before, then he could still have wonderful memories of her and their time together when she finally decided to move on from him, be it with John, as the beast had predicted, or back to her home world. Back to Earth, to live a fantastic life. He could do that, couldn't he? Be her best mate again for however long she was willing to give him. Then he could treasure each moment for the rest of his lives after she was gone.

With that resolved, the Doctor looked up to John and said quietly, "Maybe you're right."


End file.
